


A Gilded Cage

by TheRedWulf



Series: Stansa One Shots [41]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Admiral!Stannis, Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, Banter, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Jaimsa, Regency, Regency Romance, Romance, Some Fluff, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Unhappy marriage, Wit, okay a lot of fluff, plot holes, stansa, threats of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27582556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Regency - In which a golden gilded cage nearly destroys Sansa's chance at happiness forever...Picset is viewableHERE
Relationships: Stannis Baratheon & Sansa Stark, Stannis Baratheon/Sansa Stark
Series: Stansa One Shots [41]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1405915
Comments: 47
Kudos: 215





	A Gilded Cage

**Author's Note:**

> A new Stansa one shot...again. This has been on my back burner on and off for several months. It started out just a short vignette and I gradually went back in and added more 'meat' to the story. Sansa is an only child here, so you won't see the other Stark children running around. 
> 
> **IMPORTANT** \- This story is a lot more angsty/dark than some of my previous works---thought it does have a happy ending. The Lannisters are NOT NICE people, I repeat NOT NICE. This is not a Jaimsa story, but there will be mention of that. You will also see mentions of emotional abuse, physical threats/minor physical abuse, incest and mentions of suicide. If you are not comfortable with those, then I would recommend passing on this story as they are all important plot elements. 
> 
> Don't forget to join the discord, [The Red Wulf's Pack](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/)!
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Not a writer, not beta'd, the usual yadda, yadda, yadda...

**c.1820 - Westeros**

“I beg your pardon, Miss--oh, My Lady” Stannis bowed his head in apology to the young lady that he had accidentally bumped into. Granted, he did not realize that anyone would be hidden away in the library during the spring picnic, so he certainly didn’t think to use caution when opening the door. 

“All is well, My Lord,” her soft voice was easy to hear in the quiet of the library, but would have been lost in the din beyond its walls. “There is no need to apologize, it is I who is hiding in your Brother’s home, afterall.” 

“Indeed” he agreed, stepping further inside he was sure to leave the door open, lest they break propriety. Granted, Lady Sansa Lannister, the soon-to-be Duchess of Lannisport, was a married woman and while such _assignations_ were not unheard of, he had no desire to sully her name. 

He could clearly remember the first time he had laid eyes on Lady Lannister, of course back on that day she was Miss. Sansa Stark, a young beauty in her first season with stars in her eyes that could light up any room. Though no one spoke it aloud, everyone in the _haute ton_ believed her to be the very best of them, the most beautiful, most accomplished. So when she caught the eye of Lord Jaime Lannister, the heir apparent to the Lannisport Dukedom and all that that entailed, there was no great shock. 

Admittedly, Stannis had been deeply disappointed to see her gobbled up so quickly--especially by the lions of Lannisport. Their family reputation--while wealthy, was less than stellar. He had hoped, vainly of course, that he would have been able to catch her eye. He was no golden lion or charming suitor, but he was an honest man with an old family name and steady character. Surely that would be enough to recommend him? 

However, it was not. To his great dismay, their conversations had been limited to only a handful, the first occurring at Lady Tyrell’s card party, a tête-à-tête whilst they engaged in a surprisingly competitive game of whist. Less than a sennight later the banns had been read and Lady Sansa Stark became Lady Sansa Lannister. 

Had business at Dragonstone not called him away he would have talked to Lord Stark himself regarding Sansa’s hand in marriage, but he had missed his chance and felt the loss acutely. Shortly thereafter she vanished to the family seat of Casterly Rock and had not been seen for nearly an entire year. Stannis had been devastated, though he hid it well. 

Upon her banishment from town, most assumed that she had fallen _enceinte_ straight away, but when no news of children came, the malicious gossip began. It was unfortunate to see Lady Sansa fall from being the most admired woman in the _ton_ to the one most speculated about. 

Some say that she deeply offended her new Lord husband, others said that she was barren. Further rumors of spying for the French, attacking the Great Lion and even infidelity had even surfaced, but Stannis did not believe any of them. 

He hadn’t before and certainly could not now--not when Lady Sansa Lannister looked so changed, so much different than when she married. She looked pale, hollow and sad, the ache seemed to emanate from her person to the degree that others had begun to keep a wide berth, which seemed to suit her quite well. She had withdrawn completely from those around her, holding herself apart and aloof. 

Even now, in the midst of Lady Cersei Baratheon’s garden party, Sansa was hiding away from the world. 

“Lady Lannister---” 

“I beg of you” she interrupted but did not look away from the window that had so captured her attention. “Call me anything but my title.” 

“Sansa—Lady Sansa” he proceeded with great caution, stepping fractionally closer. “Is there something--anything I can do?” Clearly she was distressed and he wanted nothing more than to lighten her burdens.

“Do?” she repeated the word, finally turning away from the window to look at him. “There is nothing that can be done,” tears were visible on her cheeks, her eyes filled with an emotion that he could not name, but still she held her shoulders square and strong. She was a Lady of the _ton_ and held herself with the pride due to such an honor. 

“Forgive my boldness, but I can clearly see that you are unwell,” he elaborated. “While I know that our family connection is weak, as a Gentleman I am honor bound to offer assistance to any Lady in distress.” 

“Family connection” she turned back to the window. “I would never think to impose upon such a connection, tainted as it is. To put it simply, we are no one to each other, at its very simplest your drunken Brother is married to my whore of a Good-Sister” she whispered. “Whoever would acknowledge such a connection.” 

“Lady Sansa--” Stannis’ shock at her words, true or otherwise, rippled through his body. 

“Would I have been born a man, had I been my Father’s heir,” Sansa continued. “I would have taken up the sail, as you have done, My Lord. I would have enlisted and sailed to the edges of the world where none could find me.” 

“Lady Sansa--” 

“Where none could hurt me.” 

“Lady Sansa--” he repeated but she was lost to her declaration.

“Old Town, perhaps” she sighed a shaky sigh. “Or somewhere less tame, like Pentos.”

“Sansa,” setting aside the demands of society, he stepped to her side just as a fresh wave of tears spilled from her eyes. She made no move to pull away, only looked up at him, his great height ensuring that she had to crane her neck slightly to see him at this distance. He resisted the urge to cup her cheek, to comfort her in some small way--if barely. 

“Perhaps if I were a whore in Pentos, then my husband would take notice of me” she added, eyes returning to the window. 

He did not know what to say, nor could he explain why, but his eyes followed hers on their stare out the window. When he realized what she was staring at, he nearly choked on his breath. Beyond the gilded windows, in a secluded portion of the gardens that his elder brother, Robert, had specifically instructed be closed to visitors, was the lean form of Jaime Lannister. 

But he wasn’t alone, no, there in the gazebo he was engaged in what could only be described as ‘savage fucking’, hips wildly rutting into a woman who was bent over the railing. Her skirts were pushed to her waist, his breeches around his thighs and they were fucking like rabid animals in the broad daylight. 

“Please go,” Sansa whispered, but he did not move. Both of them stood, watching this intimate moment that would scandalize any in the peerage. “Please, you must go. _Now_.”

Still he did not budge. 

Several moments passed by, silence hanging heavily between him and Lady Sansa, and Stannis almost begrudgingly admired the golden man’s stamina, since Lady Sansa had been watching this before he arrived, but when at last Jaime collapsed across the woman’s back--clearly trembling with his climax, Stannis received his second shock of the day. 

And this one was much more damning. 

“Gods!” 

“She is beautiful,” Sansa weakly added, her entire body curled in on itself in defeat. “Everyone says so.” 

“She is his _sister_ , his twin!” Stannis hissed, his tone so violent that Lady Sansa cringed at their weight. She recovered quickly, smoothing her features back into an unreadable mask. If he had to guess, this was something she was becoming quite good at, concealing her thoughts and emotions. 

“And the woman he loves” Sansa shifted, turning away from the window to face him fully. From the corner of his eye, Stannis could see the golden pair exchanging words and soft kisses as they righted their clothing, and it made his stomach roll in rebellion. It was clear that this was more than a single moment, more than heat of the moment--this was sick.

“I cannot comprehend this.”

“And yet I would beg for your silence.”

“Lady Sansa, how can I keep such a thing quiet? Keep this from my Brother?”

“Because to speak of it would put me in danger,” she explained, carefully dabbing beneath her eyes with an embroidered kerchief. “Great danger. You were never supposed to see this. Please, I must beg for your silence, it would mean my life.”

“Danger?” he felt ill. 

“Lions protect their secrets as well as their gold, Admiral” she reasoned. “To threaten either is to sign your death certificate--or worse. Please, I beg of you, I must implore that you forget what you have seen, forget all of this afternoon.” 

“Let me help you,” he pleaded. “Surely there must be some way---”

“No” she replied simply. “All that you can do to help me is remain silent. Or the consequences would be dire.”

“My Brother…” Stannis tried to form the proper words but could not find them. 

“Must never know, though I am sure he suspects--or he would have noticed if he were sober, I daresay” Sansa’s eyes grew colder as she looked up at him, something he’d have thought impossible in the previous moments, as they’d held no emotion at all. The words did not need to be spoken to pass between them; they were both very aware of how golden Joffrey was. “Speak of this to no one, please, I beg you. I bid you a good afternoon, My Lord” she curtsied in perfect form and strode from the room with her head held high. 

He admired her strength, he decided immediately. To watch, as she had, the evidence of such twisted infidelity and then return to the party without a word was beyond marvelous. He knew without it being said that this was not the first time she had witnessed this twisted atrocity and in a moment of divine clarity he realized that this was why Lady Sansa had so wilted in the moons since her marriage. 

Whatever romantic notions or hopes of happiness had dwelled within her heart regarding marriage and family, now lay rotting within her heart. Within the hollow mausoleum of her breast lay the final ghosts of the dreams of a young woman. 

And for some reason, his own heart ached and died in sympathy. 

_“You’re Admiral Baratheon, are you not?” a melodic voice pulled him from his silent musings on the outside of Lady Olenna’s dining room. He had been ‘hard at work’ observing all those in attendance as they prepared for the pre-card game meal._

_He looked over, expecting another simpering debutante but was instead met with the sparkling gaze of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She stood tall--taller than most in the room and certainly taller than the other women of the _ton_ , but she bore it with regal elegance and a complete lack of shame. She stood proudly, uncaring if it set her apart from the others._

_Clad in an evening gown of pale yellow, it served to highlight her porcelain complexion and the vibrant, fiery auburn of her hair. Hair that was simply styled but still managed to look enticing. While he had not been in town long, it would take a blind fool to not immediately recognize the singular beauty that stood before him._

_“I am Sansa Stark” she continued when he did not reply. Offering her gloved hand, his body jumped into gear, taking it in his own to bow over it briefly._

_“I know who you are, Miss. Stark” he forced himself to reply, his brain finally catching up with the moment. “And you are correct in your deduction, I am Admiral Stannis Baratheon. It is a great pleasure to make your acquaintance.”_

_“Likewise, Admiral” she smiled as he released her hand. “Though I confess I have an ulterior motive for rather boldly introducing myself. I am not always this forward, you know.”_

_“Oh?” he replied, now he was intrigued._

_“They have determined that the game of the evening is to be whist,” she explained, glancing around the others in the room. Everyone was engaged in their own conversation and wasn’t paying them any mind._

_“I see.”_

_“And I fear that I am something of a competitive beastie when it comes to whist” she blushed demurely, a smile forming on her lips. “So in turn, I am determined to have you as my partner this evening, Admiral.”_

_“Me?” he did well to cover his shock at her bold proposition._

_“You,” she nodded. “I have deduced that since you are an Admiral, and one so highly spoken of, you are a man of superior intelligence. I have also heard from your Brother that you are something of a figures man--competitive as well” she added and he wasn’t entirely sure how to reply. He had never been in this sort of position before; the grey area between flirtation and sincere conversation._

_“While I fear that my Brother has greatly overestimated my competitive spirit, I would be honored to partner with you at the tables this evening, Lady Sansa” he replied and judging by her luminous smile, he had answered well._

_“That is perfect” she beamed. “Because I will tell you Admiral, tonight I mean to put Lady Margaery in her place” she nodded, a fiery ringlet breaking free from her chignon. “She fancies herself something of a card maven and I seek to correct her. Politely, of course.”_

_“Of course” he agreed._

_“Would you be adverse to sitting beside me at dinner?” she continued, unphased. “We could strategize and prepare ourselves. She has a fairly stone face at the tables, but she does have a few tells--though they are a secret that I would share only with my partner.” Before he could reply, the bell sounded for them to enter the dining room proper and everyone around them began to migrate inside. “Well, Admiral?” she smiled up at him expectantly. “What say you?”_

_“I am honored to serve at the Lady’s command,” he replied, his agreement widening her smile beyond any he had seen before. He offered his arm and she placed her hand over his forearm, holding her head high as they followed the crush inside._

“Are you simple?” the deep voice of the Great Lion sounded behind her and she reluctantly turned from the fireplace to face him. 

“I cannot pretend to understand your meaning, Your Grace?” she schooled her voice, ensuring it was demure and obedient. She had hoped that hiding away in the small library would have afforded her an afternoon without encountering the awful Duke, but Tywin Lannister had sought her out regardless. 

He had from the first, terrified her. He was tall--imposing really, and each word he spoke came with calculated meaning and cruel intentions. They struck their intended targets like a barb, causing them to bleed inwardly until they bent to his every whim. 

Even towards his own children was he abhorrent. More than once he had reminded them that they were responsible for the death of their Lady Mother, the late Joanna having died in childbirth, and the twins only bore his fury in obedient silence. There was no sense in fighting with him; there was no way to win when you were playing by his rules.

On that point, Sansa almost felt badly for them. 

Almost. 

“Simple. Are you simple?” he repeated. “Gods, the fact that I have to ask a second time--” 

“No, Your Grace” she interrupted his mumblings. “I am not simple.” 

“Have you locked your door?”

“No, Your Grace.”

“Then perhaps _you_ can explain to me why my Son--your Lord Husband, spends his nights at the club and not in your bed?” he demanded, crossing the library to pour himself two fingers of scotch.

“I fail to see how my marriage bed is any of your concern--” 

“You will hold your tongue this instant” he hissed, his glass halting halfway to his mouth, fury sparking in his emerald eyes. “Everything that occurs within my houses and concerns _my_ legacy is my domain. You merely exist here while I rule this damned domain. Is that clear?” Sansa lowered her eyes to her hands, now clasped at her waist and weighed her next words carefully before she spoke. 

“I apologize, Your Grace” she lifted her eyes to his. “And I cannot explain my Husband’s actions, it is not my place to presume to--” 

“Spare me the courtesies, I haven’t the patience nor the time for them” he scoffed, sipping his drink. “You’ve been married well over a year and still you have not given the Lannister name the heir it needs. The heir you were purchased for. I am tempted to claim that you are the most useless Lannister yet! That, girl, is no small feat.” 

_Purchased. Useless,_ her stomach rolled in nausea that had nothing to do with pregnancy and everything to do with the fact that she was nothing more than a vessel, bought and paid for like a sow at auction. 

“I am sorry, Your Grace” she offered the words weakly, she did not know what else to say. 

“It is likely your husband spends his nights with whores” Tywin spat. “Spilling Lannister seed on worn velvet bed coverings and the sagging tits, or drunk and gambling away the fortune I’ve worked my lifetime to amass. And you remain here, pure as the undriven snow” he shook his head. “Has he bedded you at all?” 

“Please, Your Grace” her cheeks burned in shame. She wished she had the courage to tell him where Jaime really spent his nights, where Jaime really spilled his seed. _Say it_ her mind screamed at her but her lips remained shut with sheer terror. She was not brave enough to face his wrath.

“You’re tolerable enough, I see no reason why he wouldn’t spend his nights between your legs” he stepped closer, looming over her. She swallowed back a wave of bile that threatened in her throat as his fingers traced across her jawline before toying with a curl that had come loose from her chignon. 

“Your Grace…” fear, cold and undeniable, coursed through her and she was frozen to the floor. Surely this is what a doe felt like seconds before a hunter’s arrow tore through her heart--what prey felt like at the mercy of a predator. Several moments passed in awkward silence, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire, as Tywin examined her person, goose flesh covering her flesh as he traced her collarbone. 

“I have half a mind to take you myself, right here and now” he said softly, his voice losing its previous hard edge. Her eyes shot to his, wide as a doe’s and just as scared. “On the desk perhaps or the carpet. Old man that I may be, I know my way around the female body.” 

“Your Grace, I…” she couldn’t form the words, couldn’t force her body to move--to run! 

“You’d still bear Lannisters, you might even enjoy it” his fingers went to her chin, forcing her to look up at him. Lust and amusement danced in his eyes and his lips twitched in a smirk. “This is my only warning to you, _Lady Lannister_. You will bed my son-- you will bed him and give him a son. If you do not, you will bear my sons in his stead. Is that clear?” he asked. 

“I…” 

“Is that clear?” his thumb moved to pinch her chin against his fingers. 

“Y-yes, Your Grace” she replied quickly. Anything to make this conversation end.

“I bid you good day then” he released her and strode from the room, slamming the door behind him. The echoing crash of the wood broke her body from its trance and she sank to the rug. She gasped as sobs and the need to breathe battled in her chest, every inch of her trembling violently. 

The sound of her sobs filled the library but she quickly covered her mouth, not wanting to alert anyone that she was here. She allowed her body to sag to the floor, her cheek cushioned on the rug as she cried. It was unladylike, it was improper but she couldn’t stop the cries from escaping, from building in her chest and tearing through her. She had thought she had shed all of her tears out by now, but they kept coming, spilling to the floor. 

She cried until her body ached and exhaustion pulled at her like lead weights, until she fell into an unrestful slumber right there on the rug. Escaping into the only place she could--nothingness.

_“You win again” Lady Margaery Tyrell gave an exaggerated frown, pouting to her partner and Brother, Loras. “Have you been practicing?” she looked back at Sansa, who smugly smiled in reply._

_“I believe it is all thanks to my fantastic partner” she nodded to Stannis who sat beside her, close enough that her skirts occasionally brushed against his lovely polished hessians. She had taken a very large risk in her approach of Admiral Stannis Baratheon, a very large one indeed. Initially she had been surprised to see him at the card party at all, but once she spotted him standing head and shoulders above the crowd, she began to form her plan._

_Stannis’ older Brother Robert, was her Father’s closest friend and she had, on occasion, overheard them talking of Stannis. She hadn’t paid specific attention to the gist of their discussions, but she did gather that Stannis was a singularly strong military mind and he had a head for figures and command. Surely, she reasoned, these were both traits that would assist him in a game of cards and tricks?_

_She did her best to be charming, though once she started speaking with him, she found it very easy to converse with him. Aloof and imposing though he was, Stannis Baratheon was surprisingly sharp of wit and in possession of fine intelligence. Not to mention a pair of lovely sharp blue eyes. As they spoke, she would watch his features and mannerisms, nearly hypnotized by the way his deep voice had an almost melodic cadence and the way his eyes--a deep stormy blue, held so much warmth within their depths._

_Suddenly the idea of spending the entire evening in an attempt to beat Lady Margaery at her own game had looked far more promising._

_And promising it had been. They had bested Margaery and Loras seven times so far, a fact that she could tell was beginning to raise Margaery’s hackles. Good, the precious rose deserved to have her petals plucked--just a bit._

_At that moment, a butler happened by with a tray of refreshments and a small plate of lemon cakes; the cakes of course were at Sansa’s request. The glasses were carefully doled out and Sansa quickly removed one of her silk gloves to grab the closest cake._

_“Some things never change” Margaery smiled. “Even when we were girls you adored those lemon cakes.”_

_“There is nothing as fine in the world as lemon cakes” she replied, feeling her cheeks heat in a blush, knowing that Stannis’ eyes were watching her intently._

_“It is fortunate that you have managed to stay so slender” Margaery quipped and Sansa felt her stomach drop._

_“I believe” Stannis chimed in. “It is my turn to deal” he deftly diverted the subject and Sansa was incredibly grateful for that. She could hug him, she was so grateful. “Miss. Stark, If you would pass me one of those delicious cakes, I will begin my work” he nodded to her and she deftly grabbed the plate with her ungloved hand._

_“Thank you” he said softly as he took the plate, his fingers brushing against hers. She swallowed her surprise, the warmth of his touch seeping into her being like a soothing balm. She had no idea what it was, what singular trait that he displayed had called to her, but she could feel in her stomach that Stannis Baratheon was a very heady man._

_“Of course” she did her best to smile brightly, forcing her brain to stop its wool-gathering and idolizing of Stannis. She had a Tyrell to beat, and after Margaery’s little comment, she was determined to pound her to dust._

The next occasion that Stannis had the great fortune of seeing Lady Sansa Lannister, she looked even worse than she had in the library. His eyes sought her out at a dinner party given at the Stark’s town home, one that had the opulent house packed to the brim with elite members of the _ton_.

Upon his arrival he had spotted her with her parents, listening intently as Lady Catelyn spoke, holding tightly to her daughter’s upper arm. Her dress, a soft pink concoction, was too big for her too-slender frame, her collarbones more than visible above the neckline. Sansa looked wan, pale and disinterested but still managed to nod occasionally, as if to prove she was actually listening. His attention had been pulled away by conversation, but the moment he was free, his eyes sought her out once again. 

He found her standing near the punch table, engaged in conversation with the younger Lady Lyanna Mormont, Jaime Lannister looking impossibly bored at his wife’s side. Stannis observed for several moments, intrigued as Jaime leaned in to speak privately to Sansa before quitting the conversation entirely. It could have been written off as coincidence or pure dumb luck that his words came in the wake of Robert and Cersei’s announced arrival. But Stannis knew better; his brother and good-sister had been away in the country for a fortnight, dealing with repairs at Storm’s End and surely Jaime was most anxious to renew his attachment to his...sister. 

Several minutes passed and then Lady Mormont was called away, leaving Sansa alone near the table. To the outside viewer, she looked bored and disinterested, but Stannis could see the tension in her shoulders and the mask of carefully painted indifference across her face. He could see through her. Once again Lady Sansa had been abandoned and she was doing her best to appear unaffected by her situation. 

Moving through the crush, Stannis ‘casually’ made his way to the punch table, pouring himself a glass before stepping beside Lady Sansa. 

“My Lord” she curtsied perfectly, not a hair out of place. At this distance he could see the freckles across her nose and cheeks and the slight puffiness of her eyes; she had been crying, though she had tried to hide it. He wanted nothing more than to lift her into his arms and carry her away--far away from all this. He would escort her to safety and protect her from anything and anyone who sought to harm her. No matter the cost.

“Lady Sansa” he nodded as he bowed, taking great care to prevent himself from calling her ‘Lady Lannister’. “I trust you are well?” 

“Thank you, My Lord” she replied, but did not answer his question. “It is lovely you have chosen to attend this evening, my Mother has been hard at work all week to ensure that everything is perfect.” 

“Perfect” Stannis repeated sadly, watching Sansa as she looked over the dance floor. 

“Everything must always be _perfect_ ,” Sansa continued and Stannis sensed the true meaning of her words. “Everything must be in its place, must be obedient and dutiful.” She was holding herself together yes, but not for any reason other than tonight must be ‘perfect’. 

“Lady Sansa” Stannis finished his punch and set the cup aside. “May I have this dance?” he asked, prompting Sansa to stare at his hand for several moments before she replied. 

“It is the waltz” she said quietly. Her voice trembling as she spoke. She even went so far as to look away, her eyes landing on where her Mother was speaking with Duke Tywin Lannister, a shadow falling over her features. There was something unreadable in the sadness there--or was it fear? He could not tell and that bothered him more than he wanted to admit. 

“A fact of which I am aware and I assure you I am fully capable of leading you through the steps” he replied without pause, his hand still raised between them. At this, she must have come to some sort of internal decision, her mind jerking back to the present. 

“Thank you, My Lord, I would be delighted” Sansa set her own cup on the table, slipping her gloved fingers into his. He led her onto the dancefloor and they assumed their starting positions, Sansa firmly within his embrace. It had been many years since he had danced with a woman, and never had he danced with one so tall; Sansa seemed to fit perfectly against him. 

A pang shot through his chest at the knowledge that he had missed his chance to woo Lady Sansa and thus she was trapped in a terribly unhappy marriage. Perhaps tonight would bring a genuine smile to her lips--if only for the briefest moment. 

“It has been a long time since I have danced” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the music and attendees. 

“Too long” he assured her softly, his words pulling her eyes back to his. He could see there, in the depths that were once a vibrant, stunning blue, that the details of their arrangement lurking within the privacy of her marriage were killing her. Slowly but surely the Sansa that he knew was vanishing from this world forever. 

“Do you often have occasion to dance, My Lord? You are quite light on your feet for a man so large and imposing” she asked, a flush tracing across her porcelain cheek bones at the slightly inappropriate question. 

“My Mother, Gods keep her, insisted that her sons be graceful in spite of their Baratheon height, Lady Sansa,” he replied with a soft smile. “I do believe she once thought my Father clumsy--he was even larger than myself, and sought to remedy that in their Sons.”

“I am sorry for your loss, My Lord, and apologize for bringing up what must be a painful topic” she said quickly but he shook his head. 

“Not at all, afterall, how am I to keep my parents in my memory, if the memories are locked away and forgotten?” he tried to soothe her worries. She opened her mouth to reply, but the words froze on her lips as Lady Cersei’s laughter echoed in the room, drawing their gaze to where she was speaking with Jaime. Any light that he had coaxed into Sansa’s eyes faded away in an instant.

“Some things are better locked away” she said in place of whatever she was going to say before, their bodies drawing to stillness as the music ended. “Thank you for your company, My Lord” she curtsied perfectly, effectively pulling herself from his embrace. 

“Might I tempt you with a turn about the veranda?” he asked, unwilling to part with her just yet. 

“I…” she paused, pulling her lower lip between her teeth as her eyes darted to where Jaime and Cersei were still locked in conversation. “I….yes, that would be lovely” she steeled her shoulders, looping her hand over his arm in what could only be described as defiance. 

Stannis stood tall as he escorted her from the ballroom and out onto the spacious patio of the Stark’s town home. The fresh air immediately surrounded him, flushing the over-warm air of the crush from his lungs and helping him to breathe easier. He looked to his right and nearly smiled as Sansa also exhaled the crush from her body and smiled in the cool evening air. She was as glad to be rid of high society as he was, something he was not accustomed to. 

“It turned out to be a lovely evening” Stannis noted as they crossed to the balustrade. They were safely away from the _ton_ in attendance of Lady Stark’s party, the light of the ballroom shining upon them but also hidden away from prying eyes. Stannis, had he been a practiced seducer, would have escorted an innocent Lady to this very location in hopes of securing an advantageous match. But, as it were, he wanted Sansa to have a moment of peace away from the crush and crowd, she deserved as much. 

“I would have preferred rain” Sansa admitted, offering him only a sheepish smile in apology. “I have missed the torrent, unforgiving weather of the North.” 

“Have you?” Stannis regarded her for several moments before nodding. “Ah yes, I can imagine you as the Queen of Winter--” 

“My Lord, Stannis---” 

“Regal in her crown of icicles and impassive expression of boredom” he teased, reveling in the soft tinkling laughter that escaped her throat. “Bored to tears until you were free at last to make Snow Angels in the fresh powder.” 

“You think you know me well, My Lord” she smiled, mischief in her eyes as they spoke. 

“I do.” 

“And what would my first decree be then, as the Queen of Winter?” she asked, stepping closer to close the gap between them. 

“Hmm, let me see” Stannis made a great show of pondering her question before he finally nodded. “Surely it would be lemon cakes at every meal.” 

“My Lord!” Sansa laughed, her eyes crinkling shut in amusement. “You _do_ know me well!” 

“You are a lady who admires her desserts, there is no shame in that” he admitted, turning to face her which inadvertently gave him a view of the entire ballroom. “Even while she keeps her slender figure” he added, remembering Lady Margaery’s backhanded barb. 

“I suppose, My Lord, that I am,” she agreed. “And I am singularly impressed that you remembered.”

“And your second decree would be devotion--fidelity” he said softly, his eyes following the form of Jaime Lannister as he cut through the crush, making a path towards them. Behind him stood Lord Tywin, the Duke of Lannisport, and his expression could only be described as murderous. “You deserve complete and devoted fidelity from all those in _your heart_ ,” he continued, his eyes darting behind her, telling her that her Lord Husband was fast approaching. 

“My Lord…” her smile fell and his chest tightened, arms twitching with the urge to hold her. 

“I can help—” he tried to renew his offer to assist her. 

“No” she immediately protested. 

“You can petition for a divorce,” Stannis continued. “There are ways--”

“There are circumstances beyond your knowledge. Just as before, I beg of you to keep silent,” she pleaded. “Please…”

“You deserve better,” he said softly.

“I once thought I did,” she whispered and bowed her head demurely. “I thank you for the fresh air, My Lord. It was much needed.” 

“You’re most welcome, Lady Lannister,” he spoke as Jaime reached her side, Stannis was unable to pretend that he did not see her wince at Jaime’s touch upon her arm. 

“Admiral,” Jaime said coolly, watching him with a cold glare. There were a thousand threats within that stare, most of them hollow--Lannister couldn’t touch him, wouldn’t dare. No matter that he knew Jaime was fucking--and breeding his twin Sister, Stannis had no choice but to nod his head in acknowledgement and excuse himself from the veranda. He was, after all, the man encroaching on the company of a ‘married woman’--regardless of how incest-tainted that marriage may be. 

He held himself tall as he walked back inside, not pausing until he had reached Robert’s side and only then did he turn to see the Lord and Lady Lannister exchanging heated words on the veranda. Agony tore at his gut, he was so torn by what he had witnessed, by what he knew and the fear of Sansa being hurt if he were to speak of her secrets to Robert. 

“Stannis? Is all well?” Robert’s booming voice broke into his thoughts. He turned back to his Brother but his eyes paused on Lady Cersei’s demure form at his Brother's side, revulsion coursing through him. 

“Yes” Stannis swallowed the lie, hating himself and the circumstances that held him captive. “All is quite well.” 

_“Father” Sansa began as they jostled their way back towards the Stark’s town house. They had stayed too late at the Tyrell card party, but she wished she could have stayed longer. For the first time in a long time, she had enjoyed the night spent around a card table, something that was entirely due to her companion for the evening._

_“Hmm?”_

_“How well do you know Stannis Baratheon?” she asked._

_“I’ve known him since he was a boy” her Father replied. “What do you mean?”_

_“I mean, what do you know of his character?” Sansa prompted, at which her Mother loudly scoffed._

_“You spent far too much time with that Admiral tonight Sansa, it was poorly done” Catelyn chastised her and Sansa frowned deeply. “You are meant to fetch a husband worthy of you and this behavior---”_

_“You mean, Mother, that it appeared I was enjoying myself this evening and that is not permitted?” she countered._

_“Mind your tone” Catelyn hissed. “I am your Mother, don’t you forget that. Everything I do, I do for your benefit, child.”_

_“Stannis is a good man” Eddard cut in, seeking to diffuse the situation and avoid another argument. “Without him in command of the fleet, I am certain that we would not have prevailed in the wars.”_

_“Truly?” Sansa asked and her Father nodded._

_“You were right in picking your partner” Eddard chuckled. “His mind is sharper than any blade and just as fierce.”_

_“He is very kind. And smart; we beat the Tyrells quite thoroughly,” Sansa noted, glancing out the window of the carriage. She recognized the buildings beyond and knew they would soon arrive home. “He is not married?”_

_“No,” he replied. “He never showed an inclination towards it that I saw. He is usually an aloof sort, in fact tonight is the longest he’s stayed at a card party if memory serves. He is stoic more often than not, but I have never seen him lose control of his temper or decorum” he added and Sansa guessed that was more for her Mother’s benefit than her own. Catelyn Stark had high standards and even higher expectations for Sansa’s marriage, and because of them she was a hard Mother to please._

_“Thank you, Father” Sansa said as the carriage slowed to a stop. Her Father only gave a nod in reply, his expression unreadable as the groom opened the door effectively breaking the moment._

Much to Stannis’ chagrin, he did not have the occasion to speak with Lady Sansa again until the holidays--the Yule more specifically. While he had not given much thought to those invited to the Baratheon Estate to celebrate the Yule--and certainly had been reluctant to attend himself, the moment Lord Jaime and Lady Sansa’s arrival was announced it made sense that they would be in attendance. 

Stannis had arrived only a few hours previous himself, surprised to be greeted by a very sober Robert and a visibly _enceinte_ Cersei. Disgust roiled in his gut at the memory of Cersei and Jaime’s intimate encounter and immediately he wondered if this child would be as golden as the first. 

Before year’s end, Stannis had resolved himself to finding a way to help Sansa, to tell Robert. He could bear this forced silence no longer, in truth it tormented his every waking hour. He had sent inquiries through several solicitors, but they had not been able to turn up any proof of indiscretions that could help him in removing Sansa from the marriage. He was trapped between fear for her safety, for the claws of lions were far reaching, and his duty to his Brother and his house. He had even debated talking with Eddard Stark personally, but whatever ‘friendship’ they had was tentative at best--their familial connection even more contrived. 

However, now that Robert had turned to a more sober way of life, Stannis couldn’t help but hope that a new path had opened to him.

Jaime Lannister, playing the part of dutiful Brother, immediately moved from his wife’s side to greet his twin Sister, the two talking softly for several minutes before excusing themselves to the informal sitting room. While it may not be obvious to those that chose not to pay attention, the Lannister twins seemed as if they were not even trying to conceal their affections.

“Lady Sansa” Stannis stepped from the great room, his words clearly surprising her, as her eyes remained on where Lady Cersei had just vanished around the corner. She jumped slightly at his address, turning to face him as she removed her travelling hat. 

“Admiral Baratheon--My Lord” she gave a dutiful smile, her eyes flooded with sadness as she curtsied. “I wish you all the blessings of the Yule.” 

“You did not know she was increasing” Stannis ventured softly as Robert wandered away, surely looking for Lord Stark who lay further within the house, anxious to inform him of Sansa’s arrival. 

“No, he did not tell me,” she replied. “But it does not matter. Not anymore.” 

“I would disagree greatly” Stannis countered and she shook her head. “Lady Sansa---”

“It does not matter _to me_ , not anymore” she clarified, her expression melting into that of feigned happiness as her parents, Lord and Lady Stark appeared around the corner. Stannis stepped back as they greeted their daughter, none aware of the heart-wrenching sadness that had poured from her only seconds prior. Sansa did not spare him a glance as her parents guided her further into the house, chatting happily about all that had happened since they last saw her. 

This had to end. She looked like a ghost; a pale, unaffected shell of what she once was. Her hair had dulled, as had the glow that her porcelain complexion once boasted. The Sansa he knew was rapidly slipping through his hands--from his life, and that could not be borne. 

He wanted to kill Jaime Lannister with his bare hands. 

But in this he had to settle for far less violence.

“Brother” Stannis was pulled back to the present by Robert’s interruption. “You look stricken, is all well?” 

“Yes, of course” Stannis lied, the taste of the words like acid on his tongue. Lies had a way of eating at a man's resolve, of tainting his spirit until he felt weighed down by duplicity.

“I find myself asking you this more often of late” Robert noted. “And I find your replies to be more and more often, bold-faced lies. How out of character for a man such as yourself.”

“I am--” Stannis shook his head, swallowing back the bile of another lie. “I am well.” 

“You always were a terrible liar, Stan” Robert shook his head. “A testament to your honorable character, I suppose.” Stannis forgot how observant Robert could be, he was still getting used to the revelation of Robert’s sobriety. 

“I believe” Stannis began, tugging at the hem of his waistcoat to smooth out any wrinkles. “That it is time we have a candid conversation, you and I. One that is long overdue.” 

“As gentlemen? Or brothers?” 

“Brothers” he replied, surrendering to the guilt that had tugged at his coattails all season.

“Lead the way.” 

_“I have news” her Father spoke when she entered his study. She had been summoned and immediately rushed to see what was so important, her heart racing in her breast._

_“The best news” Catelyn added, her Mother’s rare smile on full display._

_“I have just finished a meeting with Lord Jaime Lannister and his Father, the Duke Lannister” her Father continued, stirring confusion in Sansa’s mind. She could not recall ever having met either of the Lannister men in question, to her knowledge she had only seen them in passing at the season’s events._

_“Oh?” she clasped her hands near her stomach, worrying her fingers._

_“It seems you caught his eye. Lord Jaime has made his intentions known” her Father continued. “He would like to court you with the intent of marrying you at season’s end. In fact, he has paid handsomely for the honor of your hand.”_

_“But…” she swallowed, doing her best not to look at her Mother. “But I do not know him--”_

_“He is to be a Duke with fifty-thousand pounds a year!” Catelyn argued, waving her fan wildly in the air. “What else do you need to know?”_

_“By all accounts he is a good man” her Father said softly._

_“Was there…” she paused, looking out the window and into the early afternoon rain for several seconds. Taking a deep breath, she looked back to her parents. “Was there no one else?” she dared to ask._

_“Else?” her Father asked at the same moment her Mother sighed in exasperation._

_“Silly girl! Jaime Lannister **is** the Golden Lion,” Catelyn explained--loudly. “He is the catch of the season and he has come knocking at your door with coin in hand, Sansa, this is--well, for lack of a better term, a golden opportunity! You cannot let it pass you by!” _

_“Of course” Sansa’s eyes fell to her hands. “I understand. I am sorry to have doubted you.”_

_“Lemon cake---?” her Father stepped closer but he was once again overshadowed by her Mother._

_“You will be a Duchess, the richest one in society, Sansa” Catelyn sighed. “Can you imagine the opulent wedding you’ll have? The finest food--several courses at the least! Oh! And a beaded dress--real PEARLS!--with a train of course…” she continued listing off all of the things that would need to be just perfect for the wedding and Sansa felt tears bubbling up in her eyes._

_“There was no one else?” she asked her Father a second time. “No gentleman or Admiral--”_

_“Sansa---”_

_“You’ll need a new wardrobe too! And trousseau! Oh how exciting!” Catelyn cut in, tapping her fan on the desk with a loud ‘rap-rap-rap’._

_“Excuse me, I just need a moment” Sansa said, her voice breaking as tears spilled free. She turned away, rushing from her Father’s study even as her Mother yelled for her to come back. Ignoring her Mother’s commands, Sansa’s legs carried her blindly from the house and into the rain. She followed the familiar path to the glass gardens and, once she had secured herself inside, she let the sobs break free._

Jaime had been sequestered away with Cersei from the moment that they’d arrived and Sansa did not allow herself to dwell on what it was they were doing. No, she knew the truth of it now…they were celebrating their new child, surely. That was likely why Jaime had been quiet of late, why he had avoided even sharing a meal with her at all. Why he had avoided looking at her at all. 

This was why Cersei had reminded Sansa of her place--of the consequences if she should try to leave. A gilded cage was still a cage, and she was trapped just as surely as any criminal.

Switching her slippers to a more suitable leather boot, she pulled on her favorite Spencer jacket and gloves before making her way out the back doors of the sprawling Storm’s End mansion. She had not been here since she was a young girl, following along on one of her Father’s many visits to his oldest friend. She did not remember every detail of the grand palatial estate, but she did remember the warnings about the bridge to the North well, and today that was her destination. 

She had been married now for nearly eighteen moons, each one more lonely and desolate than the last. She had lost count of the times that she had cursed herself for being a stupid, foolish little girl. Lost count of the number of times she had cried herself to sleep in the Duchess’ bed chambers at Casterly Rock or in their house in town. 

She was alone. 

Always alone. 

She had lost count of the number of excuses that Jaime had used to avoid coming to her bed, and she had lost count of the number of times Lady Cersei _Baratheon_ had insulted her. To her face or behind her back, it did not matter, the barbs stuck true all the same.

Now she had the barrel of Duke Tywin’s threats to look down. To look forward too--her stomach rolled in protest. He could not have her, she simply would not allow it. The last vestige of control she had was upon her person and she refused to surrender it. She would not delay and give him the chance to force his heirs upon her.

She had stupidly hoped that marriage to Jaime Lannister, the uncatchable Duke of Lannisport, would be the dream that her Mother made it out to be. She had never tried to catch his eye, both for lack of want and lack of belief that his attentions were far too lofty for the Daughter of an Earl. But caught them she had, and after a nearly nonexistent courtship, they were married. It all happened so fast that she barely had time to catch her breath--let alone get to know him. She didn't have time to reconcile that her parents’ wishes had been fulfilled while hers had been left...wanting...

“Married” she choked on tears as she made her way up the path. Snow was falling around her now, the soft flakes dancing on the breeze before they settled upon the stone walkway. They did not stick for long, but the air was growing colder and soon a white blanket would envelope the world. 

It was fitting for the Yule and fitting for today. 

She had managed to hold out hope for the first few moons of their marriage; hope that Jaime would turn to her in affection, hope that she could at last end her life as a maiden and become the Mother she had always wanted to be. That everyone expected her to be. Hope that he could love her--like her, at least a little. At least enough to give her children.

She wasn’t stupid and naïve enough to believe that _ton_ marriages were made with love in mind, but in the beginning Jaime had been kind and charming, she had hoped that companionship would come in time. But that hope died along with the others the night she stepped from the ballroom at the Reynes' home in town and spotted Jaime slipping away with a woman. 

Devastated, Sansa had followed with the intention of confronting her wayward husband, but the sight of Cersei on her knees sucking Jaime’s cock as if it were the finest treat in the bakery had halted her in place. It was ironic, she supposed, that the first time she saw her Husband’s cock was as it vanished into the mouth of his twin Sister. The first time she witnessed his head loll back in pleasure was as Cersei’s tongue did unspeakable things. Sinful things. Disgusting things.

Sansa had run from the scene, pausing only to vomit into the bushes near the house. Shame, disgust, and devastation took their turns consuming her and she barely remembered walking the long way around the house and to her carriage to avoid being seen at the party. Much to her shame it had taken her brain several hours to piece together the realization that this affair was not new and that the golden Baratheon heir Robert boasted of was not his at all. 

For so long she had wished for her husband’s affection but now she thanked the Gods over and over that his tainted flesh had never brushed against her own. That she would never know the touch of bare skin that had once caressed that of his Sister. She would remain pure. She would remain free of the darkness that tainted his blood, a small favor in the horrible scheme of things.

At the very least, she could offer the Gods that when she reached their doorstep. 

After that discovery, she stopped trying. She stopped taking extra care with her toilette, wore gowns that were comfortable rather than flattering to her figure, and for her ‘sins’ she was sent to Casterly Rock. She became a prisoner in a strange man’s ancestral home. She could not pretend to be upset about it, she wanted nothing more than to be far away from her husband and his disgusting perversions. And thus, the Rock became her escape. Her haven.

However, the largest--most obvious issue with vanishing to a family seat is that the general assumption will be that you are with child. Soon after her arrival in Lannisport, she received a letter from her mother asking when she would like her to attend her, when would her confinement begin? Sansa had cried for days before admitting to her mother that there was no babe, there would be no confinement. She had failed.

Lady Catelyn Stark had been incensed. Long letters featuring lectures and reminders of her wifely duty had followed at regular intervals until Sansa simply began to burn them without opening them. Why would she bother to read of her mother’s disappointment in her since it could never measure up to the disappointment she felt in herself. She did not need to be reminded that Duke Tywin had paid handsomely for the promise of heirs, and Sansa had--thus far, failed them. Nothing would ever compare to the disappointment she felt in her own heart.

In the wake of this disappointment came a moment of horrible epiphany; Jaime would never come to her, never touch her, and so the family--true family, she longed for more than anything in the world would never be. The fantasy crumbled to dust in her heart. She was not so bold as to cuckold her husband with the hopes of conceiving a child and even if she was, Jaime would immediately know of her indiscretion and he could toss her on to the street without a penny to her name. 

She would be penniless. Homeless. A ruined woman. A whore. 

Afterall, society was much more forgiving of a man’s affairs than a woman’s. 

Instead, Sansa lived her days in solitude, doing all that she could to avoid the lectures of her Mother and accusatory stares of the Great Lion, Tywin Lannister. He watched her with eyes sharper than diamonds and just as cold and she knew it was only a matter of time before he came to her--for her. Of course he blamed her for the lack of children in her marriage to Jaime, and she still could not summon the courage to tell him the truth of his children’s inclinations. He had not renewed the threat he had spoken in the library, but the clock was ticking and soon he would realize that Jaime still avoided her bed and would come to her himself. A thought that made her skin crawl.

Which brought her to the here and the now. The moment she laid eyes on Cersei, a woman glowing and swollen with child once more--a woman loved and worshipped. A woman valued. This only cemented Sansa’s decision to escape. To end this farce. Divorce was not an option, an annulment would never be granted if the Great Lion had any say, there were few choices left to her. 

Lannister threats had her thoroughly trapped. She had nowhere to go--nowhere to turn to. Especially when their threats turned into promises of harm and ruin to people that she _did_ care about.

And worst of all, her selfish act of hiding in the library had brought Stannis Baratheon into her misery. He wasn’t meant to know, no one should know and it brought her great shame that he did. However, when Stannis had moved to her side she had felt safe, the pain in her chest easing at his mere proximity. And because of her selfishness, he was now trapped within her secrets as well. The pain of having hurt him was insurmountable. She considered it, above all, her greatest sin in life. He had said it once to her, but she knew it now to be true for him; he deserved better. 

She could never hope to have him, have the man that her heart had chosen before her parents made an arrangement on her behalf, and thus she was entirely alone. She had always thought this sort of action to be a selfish one, but at least with Robert and the others close by, her parents could be consoled. They would have support--comfort upon hearing the news. 

She had never intended to disappoint her parents, she had worked hard to be a proper lady and dutiful wife, but there was nothing left now. Every avenue she turned to was littered with pain, harm and ruin. She just longed to find her peace and be free. 

As she rounded the final bend of the path, her breath caught in her throat at the large wooden bridge that lay across the Stonehelm River. It was an ancient structure, rotten in parts but still whole enough to deliver her to her destination. 

She approached with caution, a gloved hand coming out to rest on the wooden railing. Her fingers traced the grain of the wood with gloved precision, offering it a reverence that could only be given by someone who was, at last, at the precipice of agony. She found solace in the uneven nails that held the railing top to its post, the idea of such a structure being as outwardly imperfect as she was inwardly, made her sigh in relief. 

Twenty steps, she ventured a guess, mentally measuring the distance to the bridge’s center. Twenty steps was all that lay between her and eternity. Between her and peace.

At last.

_Silence filled the carriage as they made their way back to the Lannister town house. She knew that Jaime was angry with her, he had made that more than clear on the balcony when he had come upon her with Stannis. She just didn’t have it left in her to care. Jaime’s anger, Cersei’s anger, Tywin’s anger, she had dealt with them all far too often. She had no energy to argue, no motivation to fight with a man who beneath it all was a monster. A golden, depraved monster._

_“Still nothing to say for yourself?” Jaime scoffed, shaking his head. “You are married to me, you cannot disappear with Admiral Baratheon whenever you’d like” he reiterated. “Hells, Father was furious. How would it look if you had been caught?”_

_“This isn’t a marriage” she replied softly, not taking her eyes from the window. “This is a farce.”_

_“Sansa--” Jaime sighed in exasperation. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was as tired of this as she was. “We are married and--”_

_“Perhaps things would be better if I were blonder,” she turned to fix him with her best impassive stare and she had the great pleasure of watching the color leech from his face._

_“Excuse me?” his voice had lost its edge and was now cold, quiet._

_“Do not worry, _husband_ ” she let a mirthless laugh escape her lips. “I’ve kept your secret for moons now, it is obviously safe with me.” _

_“I do not know of which--”_

_“Don’t play stupid, its unbecoming in a man” she glared. “You seek your pleasures in your Sister and in turn you do not have the right to lecture me for having a simple conversation with a gentleman at a party.”_

_“You are married--”_

_“And so are you!” she hissed. “But now I see that I am only here to serve as a cover for your disgusting inclinations” she shook her head. “You’re not my husband, you’re my jailer.”_

_“Sansa” he sighed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his golden hair. “It's...complicated.”_

_“How so?” she almost laughed in his face. He took a breath, opened his mouth to explain but she waved her hand in the air between them. “Oh wait, I just realized, I don’t care.” The carriage jostled to a stop and as she moved to make her exit, Jaime’s hand closed around her upper arm. Hard. “Ouch--”_

_“You tell anyone,” he growled against the shell of her ear and in the back of her mind she realized that this was the closest they had even been. “A single soul, Sansa, and I will use every ounce of influence that the Lannister name carries and I will ruin you and your entire family. I will destroy everything you care about. Everyone you care about.”_

_“Threats are nothing new, I’ve received them from every Lannister I’ve met. In fact, my favorite is your Father’s threat to cuckold you. Lannister seed is Lannister seed, is it not?” she glared and his hand locked tighter around her arm. “Let go! You’re hurting me!” she protested but he only twisted his grip, surely she would have a bruise there tomorrow._

_“There is no escaping this, Sansa, you belong to the Lannisters” Jaime warned. “And if you take Stannis Baratheon into your bed, I will know, and I will make you regret it. I will make him regret it” she turned then, in the near darkness of the carriage she could see the edge of madness in his eyes. Still, she couldn’t stop herself._

_“You would know all too well how obvious it is when a child is or isn’t a Baratheon, wouldn’t you” she said flatly and his eyes lost all sense of humanity. Fear skittered up her spine and settled in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. She was certain he was doing all he could not to strike her._

_“No one will ever know of this, do you understand?” he demanded and she could only nod. “Say it” he shook her and she swallowed back her sobs._

_“I understand” she whispered, feeling impossibly small. This moment was a defining moment, she could feel it in her soul. Stannis knows, her brain whispered. Run to Stannis---no, she stopped her thoughts, she would not have him hurt because of her._

_“You’ll go back to the Rock tomorrow and return for the Yule, not before” he informed her. “That will give you time to think on our **marriage** and your behavior” he released her so abruptly that she tumbled from the carriage. Were it not for a quick groom, she would have fallen to a heap at the steps, but the younger man quickly steadied her and helped her to her feet._

_The moment she was stable, she was moving into the house. Once again her legs blindly carried her to her rooms, hands trembling so badly that she could barely manage the locks on all of the doors. Assured that she was safely locked away from any who would enter, she sank to the floor between the bed and the far wall, curling into a ball and closing her eyes._

_In the darkness her heart and her brain made several harsh realizations..._

_There was no escape from this._

_There was no end of this._

_’Till death do you part….she inhaled roughly, choking on a sob._

“Have either of you seen Sansa?” Catelyn glibly asked the moment Stannis and Robert emerged from the study. The two had been engaged in a very heated discussion regarding all that Stannis knew of Lady Cersei and her adulterous activities. 

Stannis had told him everything, from his first encounter with Sansa to now, not holding back a single detail. If he wanted to take control of this situation, he would need Robert to know it all. 

Robert had not wanted to believe them at first, hoping that his wife was not such a sinful soul, but Stannis had never been one to lie or exaggerate and together the brothers had pieced together all of the pieces of their plan. A plan that now had runners crossing the realm in order to carry out Robert’s bidding. 

A plan that, of course, also hinged upon Lady Sansa. 

“Not since her arrival, no” Stannis looked around the great hall, dread settling in his gut. 

“She said she was going to rest, but she is not in her room” Catelyn frowned. “It was so odd, she told me that she loved me--an out of place salutation if one were simply taking a nap, I would think.” 

“Her Spencer is gone, but she did not take this,” Eddard announced as he joined them, the forgotten hat hanging limp in his hands. 

_“It does not matter _to me_ , not anymore”_ Sansa’s words echoed in Stannis’ head. 

“Stay here” he instructed the Starks, his long legs carrying him through the great mansion and out the back door. 

“Stannis!” Robert called after him but he paid him no heed. “What the devil--” 

He did not know how he knew where she would be, only that he knew beyond a doubt that she was heading to the Stonehelm Bridge. For years Robert had told ghost stories about the bridge and all those who had fallen to their deaths in the icy waters below. Stannis had brushed it aside as Robert’s unique way of keeping the children from playing on the dilapidated structure, but to a woman without any hope or happiness left in her chest…

He ran, thankful for his fine boots and the decades of Naval service had kept him sharp and in shape, this meant that the stone path fell away quickly behind him. His breath was a cloud of fog in the increasing cold, a warning that tonight would be their first night of snow. This, however, meant that meant it would only take seconds in the water for death to be certain--he’d been a sailor long enough to know that much to be true.

Rounding the bend he nearly sagged in relief at the sight of Sansa’s auburn hair on the breeze. It had come loose from its style, likely in the winds from the river, curls dancing around her like fire. 

“Sansa” he did not bother with formalities, saw no sense in them in this moment, his gait slowing as he reached the wooden planks of the bridge. 

“No!” she shook her head, turning to face him. Her eyes were wide with panic and fear, skin paler than he had ever seen. 

“Sansa--”

“Go back, you have to go back!” 

“I absolutely will not” he refused, using careful footing to move onto the bridge proper. 

“No!” she protested. “Please, I beg of you. Grant me this modicum of peace!” 

“You believe that what awaits you there is peace?” he motioned to the rushing current beneath them. “That is not peace, Sansa. That is death!” 

“It is freedom!” she choked on a sob, turning her eyes away. If she spoke further, her words were lost to the sound of the river, the crashing of its waves upon the shores. The waters of Shipbreaker Bay were not kind, not even in the rivers that fueled it. 

“Sansa, please..” he pleaded, inching closer.

“I beg of you” she sobbed, her voice small and quiet. “If you ever felt anything for me, even the slightest inkling of affection, I beg you to leave me be.” 

“Sansa, we can fix this--we are going to fix this” he was only a few planks away now, his arm stretching out to close the gap. 

“No!” she screamed out as his hand closed around her upper arm, tugging her away from the edge. “NO!” she tried to protest but Stannis’ strength easily subdued her, wrapping her tightly to his chest. He watched over the crown of her head as the plank she had been standing upon crumbled into shards, vanishing into the water below. 

“Ssh” he tried to soothe her as he walked back towards the stone path, away from the precipice that she had stood upon. He had come so close to losing her forever.

“No!” she sobbed over and over, fingers gripping tightly to his waistcoat. “Let me go, you have to let me go--please! Why do you hate me? Why would you condemn me to this living death sentence?” she tried to shove him away but he held her firmly. They reached the path and, as if she realized she was back on solid land, her legs gave way. Stannis steadied her, lowering them both to the grass beside the pathway. Sansa crumbled into his lap, her sobs and cries echoing around them, her agony on display for all to hear. 

“Breathe” he tried to encourage her but she only screamed louder. 

“Why” she begged, a small hand alternating between beating against his chest and pulling him closer. Clearly a war waged within her and it nearly destroyed him. “Just let me go! I won't let him have me! I cannot! Just let it end...” 

“No” he snapped at her, uncaring that his tone was as cold as the snows falling around them. “You’re a damned fool if you think that will happen. You will have peace, I promise you that Sansa. Freedom, peace, affection, you _will_ have it. I will do everything in my power or the Gods be damned I will die trying.” 

“I do not want this life, I never wanted this life.”

“Breathe, Sansa. All will be well, I promise” he repeated over and over, smoothing his hand over her hair. “Just breathe. I promise you.”

“Please--they’ll hurt you! Let me go!” 

“Brother” Robert’s larger frame rounded the bed, drawing up short at the sight of Lady Sansa coming undone. If Robert had needed any further evidence of the damage that the Lannisters had wrought upon this lady, he now had it in spades. Sansa screamed, begged, pleaded and cursed, but Stannis’ arms held her still. She was his prisoner, yes, but he only sought to keep her from herself. 

Robert stood watch on the path as Stannis cocooned her, her sobs soon quieting to whimpers as her body went limp in exhaustion. His breeches were soaked through from the grass and falling snow, a chill on his skin but he was more focused on the broken woman in his arms. Shifting carefully, Stannis kept her in his arms as he rose to his feet. Her head lolled to his shoulder, her hair falling wildly around them both as her arms limply clung to his shoulders. Her frame sagged in defeat, agony weighing heavily upon her, but he did not struggle to carry both it and her. 

“She…” Robert paused as Stannis stepped onto the stone path before him. 

“The bridge,” Stannis confirmed. 

“Gods be praised you reached in her time” Robert whispered. 

“Yes, and perhaps one day she will forgive me for that” Stannis replied resolutely, the two Brothers walking silently back to the house. 

_“My Father laments to me that Jaime is not doing his husbandly duties” Cersei said coolly, toying with her wine glass. Inwardly Sansa cringed, hating how the details of her marriage bed were common knowledge in the Lannister household. It was mortifying and only served to remind her that she was nothing more than livestock to the lions around her._

_“Lady Cersei--”_

_“I know that you know” Cersei glared. “Jaime told me.”_

_“Which means he also told you that I mean to keep your secret” Sansa countered. “You are welcome to keep him, I do not want him.”_

_“He did and I will” Cersei nodded, pacing closer to where Sansa stood beside the window. “I have long forbidden him to come to your bed, despite what his title requires. But I wanted to impart a little information of my own.”_

_“What is that?” Sansa asked, not surprised that she would be threatened by every breathing Lannister._

_“If you tell a soul, Little Dove, I will give you to The Mountain” Cersei said with a smug smile and Sansa felt the life leech from her blood. She had met The Mountain only once at Casterly Rock, but that single meeting would forever be cemented in her mind. The man was huge, terrifying, and dangerous. He was one of Lord Tywin’s lackeys and, according to servant gossip, a man of terrible and violent inclinations._

_“I see” Sansa took several breaths._

_“I will give you to him and let him enjoy every hole in your pretty little body until your mortal coil has been severed” Cersei promised. “Is that clear?”_

_“Crystal” Sansa nodded._

_“You know” Cersei stepped close enough that their skirts brushed and she could smell the wine on her Good Sister’s breath. “My Father believes you’re simple but you’re not” Cersei boldly lifted a hand to tuck one of Sansa’s curls behind her ear. “You’re far too smart for your own good.”_

_“Do not touch me” Sansa hissed._

_“I will do as I please,” Cersei replied. “You’re a Lannister now, you belong to the Lannisters. To me.”_

_“Only one of us in this room is a Lannister” Sansa glared, her temper quickly rising in the wake of her fear. “And it isn’t you.” The sound of flesh meeting flesh rang in her ears before she registered the sting on her cheek and Cersei’s raised hand. Pain leeched in and Sansa flexed her jaw as her eyes watered._

_“Stupid--”_

_“Thank you” Sansa stood tall, taller than Cersei. “I’d forgotten that I could feel” she pulled her kerchief from her pocket to dab her watery eyes and her lip, which had split and was lightly bleeding. “Good day, Lady Baratheon” she said defiantly, turning on her heel to quit the room._

_“Remember my promise, Little Dove,” Cersei called after her, her cruel laughter echoing in the hall._

Neither Robert nor Stannis spoke of Sansa’s attempt and when they reached the house, they had chosen instead to simply inform the frantic Starks that she had gotten lost on her walk around the property. Catelyn readily accepted the reasoning, her mind more focused on rushing about to order a bath to warm her daughter’s frozen skin, but Stannis could see the doubt in Eddard’s eyes. 

It was that very doubt that had Stannis inviting Eddard to the study a few hours later. 

He had entrusted Sansa to her Mother’s care, a physician having immediately been summoned to examine her and assist in preventing her from falling ill as a result of the cold weather. With him came a Septon, this man having received Robert’s summons sent sometime earlier. While Catelyn was busy above stairs, Eddard was quickly and quietly informed of what was about to happen. Nearly every sordid detail. Once the shock had settled, he nodded in agreement that he was to bear witness to it all. 

“It seems that I owe you a great debt for locating my errant wife,” Jaime said the moment he entered the study, unsurprised to find Robert, Stannis, and Eddard there. 

“You owe me nothing” Stannis fixed the shorter man with a glare. “And from you I would accept nothing” he added and Jaime’s smile fell. 

“Lannister” Robert stepped in, pulling several papers from the desk as the study door opened once more, this time at the arrival of Cersei. 

“What is the meaning of all this?” Cersei demanded. “All of you locked away during the Yule?” 

“I have asked my brother and my oldest friend to bear witness,” Robert explained. “To my intention to petition for our immediate divorce.” 

“What? _How dare---_ ” Cersei hissed. “On what grounds--” 

“Does that really need speaking?” Robert looked knowingly to Jaime who, to his credit, shrank at the heat of the glare. “Do not worry, Cersei, I am sure that you will be well-cared for in Lannisport. You and your children.” 

“Some moons ago, I happened to be in the library in Robert’s town house” Stannis began. “Imagine my surprise to learn that it's Northern window had such unique views of the gazebo” he explained, Jaime and Cersei looking at each other. “It did not take much to put things together, and with the Lady Sansa’s actions today---” 

“Actions? She got lost” Cersei scoffed. “She’s always been a simpleton--”

“She was stopped in an attempt to take her own life on the Stonehelm Bridge” Stannis stated bluntly, Eddard’s head snapping to his. While Eddard surely had suspected, hearing the words were enough to shake any man’s world. “You drove your wife, the toast of the _ton_ , to the brink of suicide, Lannister. I would commend you if I could quell the desire to cut you down upon the spot.” 

“Excuse me” Eddard stood, striding quickly from the room. 

“I have petitioned for, and will surely be granted a divorce on the grounds of adultery and incest” Robert replied. “It is clear that your children are not Baratheons--Gods know I’ve been too drunk to do anything these past years, so I will leave their care and yours to their father” he looked at Jaime. “You will grant Sansa a divorce immediately, free her from your shackles. You will not see her, you will not speak to her, you will end your farce of a marriage and never contact her again.” 

“And ruin her?” Jaime glared. 

“You’ve already ruined her,” Stannis said coolly. 

“Setting her aside would ruin any future prospects,” Jaime reasoned. 

“And fucking your Sister behind your Wife’s back hasn’t?” Robert countered. “Should her parents choose to sever their ties, I will take Lady Sansa into my care. Though the Gods above know that Ned won’t let her be turned out.” 

“Have you had her?” Jaime’s eyes narrowed at Stannis. “I always suspected that she was partial to you--Gods know why, have you taken her to your bed?” 

“That is not your business any longer” Stannis refused to answer, clenching his jaw in an attempt to quell his temper. 

“She spreads her legs for you, turns my husband against me, tells you---” 

“You’re out of line, _Lady Lannister_ ” Stannis slammed his hand onto the desk, silencing Cersei’s argument immediately. Everyone turned to him in shock, never having witnessed a show of temper from Admiral Stannis Baratheon. As if summoned by divine intervention, Eddard returned, his presence diffusing the situation as he crossed immediately to Stannis’ side. 

“She is untouched” Eddard whispered and Stannis nearly sighed in relief. “The physician and Sansa have confirmed she is intact.” 

“At least,” Stannis glared at Jaime. “You had the good sense not to take her maidenhead.” 

“Truly?” Robert asked and Eddard nodded. 

“Sansa has promised it and the physician has confirmed it,” Eddard explained. “It seems his arrival is most timely.” 

“I never touched her” Jaime agreed. “But neither did you,” he chuckled, the challenge in his eyes clearer than glass. 

“You will grant her an annulment, immediately” Stannis stated. 

“I never wanted her to begin with,” Jaime continued sadly. “But I almost want to keep her just so you cannot have her” he taunted. 

“This cannot stand,” Cersei screeched. “My Father will not allow this! He paid for her--” 

“I’ve already written to inform your Father of our impending divorce, consider his payment to the Starks reparations for the damage you two have caused” Robert informed her. “I have always known you didn’t love me, Cersei. I never asked you to, in fact. But I cannot abide a wife who spreads her legs for her own blood. It’s not right.” 

“You talk as if you’ve never fucked another during our marriage” Cersei countered. 

“I’ve never fucked my brother, I can promise you that much” Robert said, crossing his arms. Stannis had to give his brother credit, he was being remarkably calm about all this. He would chalk that up to his new-found sobriety.

“You will be hearing from my solicitors,” Eddard cut in, looking at Jaime. “You have gravely injured my daughter, My Lord. While I cannot pretend that I am not grateful that you did not force yourself upon her person, you have left immeasurable scars across her heart that will likely never heal. She was a bright beauty when I entrusted her to your care, Jaime Lannister, and you have rendered her a husk.” 

“Lord Stark---” 

“Sansa is no longer your concern” Stannis cut him off, tired of this conversation entirely. “I suggest you both see to your packing, as your carriage departs for Casterly Rock in three hours time.” 

Sansa was standing beside the large window in a guest bedroom at Storm’s End when a knock came at the door. She had bathed and been thoroughly inspected by the physician, her entire body exhausted and emotionally worn out. Pulling her dressing gown tighter around herself, she bid them permission to enter. She had assumed it would be her parents or the maid with a dinner tray, but she was surprised to see the broad form of Admiral Stannis Baratheon step inside. 

“Lady Sansa” he greeted softly. 

“Admiral Baratheon” she turned to face him, aware that her state of dress was not appropriate for such an audience. 

“I had to come and see for myself that you were well,” he explained. “And I asked to be permitted to personally deliver the news.” 

“News?” 

“I am pleased to inform you that you are no longer to be Lady Sansa Lannister” he informed her. “And once your annulment is confirmed, you will once again be the lovely Miss. Sansa Stark” he added and for the second time in as many hours, Stannis was forced to catch her as her legs threatened to give way. 

She felt his arms wrap around her before she met the floor, her vision swimming in dizzying fashion. She clung to his frame, doing her best to catch her breath as his deep, soothing voice whispered reassurances into the silence of the room. 

“Oh Gods” she sobbed, fingers fisted in his coat. “Stannis…”

“Shh” his fingers brushed her hair, briefly tangling into the length. She had left it loose once she had finished her bath, seeing no sense in styling it as she would have no guests. Her parents could hardly look at her, her mother hadn’t spoken a word to her and she felt the weight of their disappointment like lead in her stomach. Especially when the physician had come to confirm her status as a maid---something she’d thought odd at the time but now made sense. 

But Stannis, Stannis who had seen her at her worst, in the moment where she was prepared to meet The Stranger himself, he had pulled her back from the brink. Figuratively and literally. He had trapped her against the broad expanse of his chest, making him the only man she had been this close to at all. Closer than she’d ever been to her husband. To any man. He had become her anchor in many ways, her Rock of Ages. And here she was, once again wrapped in his embrace. Safe, protected from the pains of the world. She had not noticed it earlier, her mind having been thoroughly occupied by her momentous decision, but this close Stannis stood much taller than her, her head barely reaching his chest. 

“Both Jaime and his horrible Sister are gone,” after several minutes, Stannis’ voice reached her ears. The deep baritone was rough, dare she say from emotion or overuse, his breath softly tickling her temple. “The Church will grant an annulment and as of today, you are free of him and your gilded cage.” 

“Oh Gods.” 

“That is not to say there will not be fallout or scandal as a result, but you are free, Sansa” he promised. 

“Thank you” she swallowed a sob, burrowing her face into his cravat. “Thank you.”

“There is no need to thank me” Stannis replied. “I am sorry that I did not help sooner.” 

“I can hardly believe this is real.”

“I would ask your forgiveness as well,” Stannis said softly. “I broke your confidence, I had to. This morning in the foyer-- each time I see you I could see that your marriage was destroying you and I could not stand idly by and watch you waste away.”

“Jaime and Cersei, they knew that I knew,” she whispered. “They threatened me to keep silent, such awful threats. Jaime said he would hurt you and Cersei said she would give me to Gregor Clegane. I was so scared, every day. If they found out that you knew---” 

“You hid it well, but not well enough” he shook his head. He felt badly that Jaime had used him as a means to threaten Sansa, this poor, sweet woman had been so horribly wronged. “No woman should ever have to bear witness to such atrocities, you suffered greatly and you bore it like a Queen.” 

“I thought it was something deficient within myself” she looked up into his stormy blue eyes. “Something that I lacked to the point that my husband regretted marrying me. I had no idea such proclivities existed.” 

“They should not,” Stannis replied. “They are depraved beings, the Lannister twins. There is no fault in your own being or character, Sansa. You have always been singularly lovely.” 

“Thank you” she said sincerely. “For everything, thank you. You have become my savior.” 

“You’re most welcome,” he said as the door to the room opened, Eddard Stark stepping inside. Sansa didn’t miss the way his eyes landed on them, glaring holes through Stannis’ frame. She carefully shifted away, Stannis’ arms falling to his sides as she moved closer to the window. 

“Stannis asked to be the one to tell you” Eddard began slowly surely remembering Jaime’s words in the study, his comments in regards to the nature of his relationship with Sansa. “It seems that he was privy to more details regarding your life than I was.” 

“I had no choice” Sansa raised her chin, squaring her shoulders to be strong, even as tears dried on her cheeks. “I had no say in my courtship or marriage to Jaime--no, not a courtship, a transaction for goods and services. Every letter from Mother was a lecture on my duty to my husband, every conversation with a Lannister was threats of pain or…” her words trailed off, eyes bright with unshed tears. “His Grace, Duke Tywin, gave me an ultimatum recently. If I did not do my duty by Jaime then he would come to me himself, regardless of my willingness” she finished. 

“Gods” Stannis swore under his breath, unable to comprehend how much fear Sansa had lived with in her marriage.

“I stood trapped between ravenous lions and society's expectations. Every ball, every party was another step closer to the Seven Hells that I so longed to devour me, Father. You cannot stand on judgement of my actions, you do not know what I had to endure” she said.

“You could have told us, we would have listened---” 

“I had no choice!” she argued. “Were I to speak the words I would have been given to The Mountain and watched my family ruined. The only reason Stannis knew is because he saw them himself, I would never have...” she shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “I never would have put him in danger.” 

“Sansa” Eddard protested but she shook her head. “I am so sorry…”

“Were it not for Stannis, I would have found some way to end my life. To be free” Sansa said softly, looking at him. “I am haunted by the realization that if it was not for the Lannisters, perhaps I could have been happily married to a better man--the man that I wanted, and if the Gods willed it, he would have given me children by now.” 

Stannis felt the implication of Sansa’s words like a physical blow. He nearly rocked back on his heels, steeling himself against the onslaught of unfamiliar emotions that coursed through him. 

He had thought, upon the conclusion of the evening spent beside Sansa at the card table, that there had been something there beneath the surface of their words. He had felt a spark of hope that, in spite of being surrounded by suitors, that Lady Sansa Stark had particularly enjoyed their conversation. His hopes had been dashed by the arrival of the Golden Lion Jaime Lannister and the following announcement that he had set his cap for her and intended to marry her. Now, however, it seemed that his hopes had not been entirely unfounded. 

“Admiral, if you would be so kind as to excuse us” Eddard looked at him, his expression nervous and uncertain. “I would speak privately with my Daughter.” 

“Of course” Stannis bowed his head at Lord Stark before turning to do the same to Sansa. “Miss. Stark.” She gave him a ghost of a smile, distress still evident in her bright blue eyes, but he forced himself to turn away. He was met by Robert at the bottom of the stairs, his Brother extending a glass of what looked like watered arbor gold wine into his hand. 

“I do not--” 

“Drink it,” Robert instructed, meaning to escort Stannis to the solar. “You look out of sorts.” 

“I want her” Stannis stated without preamble, taking great pride in the shock that had Robert’s eyes going wide. 

“You… _want_?”

“Her. I want her. I have always wanted her,'' Stannis stared at his glass of wine for several seconds. “And if she will accept me, I mean to have her.” 

“Good Gods, man” Robert chuckled. “Your balls have finally sprouted hair!” 

“I will marry her, Robert” Stannis ignored his Brother’s crude humor. “I should have married her the moment I met her.” 

“I hardly recognize you as Stannis Baratheon--are you certain you are not an imposter?” 

“I am more myself than ever,” Stannis assured him. “What is the proper waiting period once an annulment is granted?” 

“Does she know about this?” Robert asked. 

“I dare hope she does.” 

“And does she object?”

“I know not.” 

“Stannis,” Robert began, tone suddenly serious. “Her annulment should be granted within a fortnight given the circumstances, though I am certain Tywin bloody Lannister will have a great many things to say regarding it.” 

“Why?” Stannis quipped. “He already has in heirs; pureblood Lannister heirs” he deadpanned.

“Gods” Robert exhaled. “I have never seen you like this.” 

“Prepare yourself, Brother” Stannis promised. “Because I mean to marry that woman the moment I am able---” 

“I can only assume you mean my Daughter” the voice of Eddard sounded behind them and Stannis turned to face him. 

“I do, Lord Stark.” 

“Even knowing she will be the subject of the realm’s most infamous scandal?” Eddard asked. "That she will be ruined in the eyes of society?" 

“It matters little to me, it says nothing of her character that Jaime Lannister is a sick man” Stannis countered. “She is far from ruined, in reputation or otherwise.” 

“She asked me about you,” Eddard explained. “I forget when it was, but we were in the carriage travelling home and she asked about you--about your character.” 

“Did she?” Robert sipped from his drink, suddenly very interested in what Eddard had to say. 

“It likely would have been the night of Lady Tyrell’s card party that we first spoke” Stannis ignored the way his Brother’s gaze cut through him. “And I was similarly intrigued.” 

“She seemed quite taken by your shared conversation” Eddard continued. “I told her you were a man of honor, fought valiantly in the war--” his words silenced when Stannis scoffed. 

“There is nothing valiant about war.” 

“She asked if you were married, which at the time struck me as an odd sort of question” Eddard shook his head. “Now I see the truth in its origins. Had I paid closer attention the day I broke the news of her impending engagement, I would have realized that her asking if there was another--an ‘Admiral’, meant something far more important.” 

“Lannister beat you to the bloody punch then?” Robert scoffed. 

“It was a matter of four days; I was gone for four days and returned to find I had lost my chance forever” Stannis explained. 

“Lion cunts” Robert spat

“Indeed” Eddard said dryly, not sparing a look for his oldest friend. Instead he was locked in a staring contest with Stannis, one that Stannis refused to give in to. “Am I to understand that your intention since the beginning has been to take Sansa to wife?” 

“That was always my hope, Lord Stark, yes.” 

“I’ve never seen him like this, Ned” Robert laughed. “The man is dangerously close to showing emotion.” 

“Robert---” 

“What makes you believe that she would be open to your suit?” Eddard asked. 

“A man can never understand the desires of another’s heart” Stannis reasoned. “But I would hope that, given all that you’ve revealed, she is not entirely adverse to my attentions.” 

“And if she refuses?” 

“Then she refuses,” Stannis offered. “It is her choice to make, no one should make it for her. But make no mistake, Lord Stark, should she agree then this will not be a cold, heartless affair. She will be mine. She will be my wife in truth and she’ll want for nothing.” 

“Including children?” Eddard asked. 

“Including anything she desires, should that be children or the most ridiculous bonnet in the city.” 

“Come Ned” Robert broke in, clapping his oldest friend on the shoulder and taking Stannis’ untouched wine glass from him and handing it to Eddard. “We could both use a drink” he guided Eddard away, both men talking quietly on their way. Before Stannis could turn to follow, however, a shuffle behind him had his eyes swinging to the staircase where he met the unreadable expression on Sansa’s face.

“Did you mean it?” she asked, descending a few steps from the top. She wore a plain grey dress now, though her hair still hung loose and her feet were bare.

“Every word” he promised. His legs moved without conscious thought, carrying him closer to her, resting at the bottom of the staircase. “I’ve wanted to marry you since the moment we met, Sansa, nothing could compare to the devastation I felt at losing that chance.” 

“Then my answer is ‘yes’,” she smiled brightly, fresh tears gathering in her eyes. 

“Yes?” he moved up several steps as she moved down just as many. 

“Yes” she repeated. “And I do not want bonnets, ridiculous or otherwise.” 

“What is it that you would ask of me?” he closed the distance, Sansa now standing on the step above his, which brought their heights on to more equal measure. Granted she still barely reached his shoulder, but the gap was narrowed nonetheless. 

“Nothing that money can buy” she whispered. 

“Ask and I will do all that I can.” 

“Affection.” 

“Done.” 

“Soft words spoken across the pillow in the moonlight.” 

“Done.” 

“Children” she blinked and a few tears escaped to trail down her cheeks. 

“As many as you want” he agreed. “Dragonstone is a large house with many rooms, I daresay we cannot fill them all.” 

“We can try” she laughed, the sound soft and light. 

“We can, indeed,” he lifted a hand, using his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheek. “ _My Lady_...” 

“I wanted it to be you,” she whispered. “You’re all I wanted.” 

“And you shall have me,” he assured her.

“No more words, I am so tired of _words_ ,” she shook her head and shifted closer. Stannis accepted the unspoken invitation without pause, closing the distance to take her lips in an achingly gentle kiss. He felt Sansa’s body meld to his, a sigh escaping into their connection. Shifting closer still, he wrapped an arm around her waist as her lips parted, their kiss deepening. There was nothing wild or lustful in the embrace, but a gentle understanding and a promise of so much more. 

“Sansa Minisa Stark!” a screech came from the top of the stairs, followed by a sigh and a thud. Stannis pulled back to see Lady Stark laying in a very unladylike heap on the top landing, having fainted at the sight of her Daughter in his arms. 

“Should we--” 

“She’ll be fine” Sansa whispered with a smile, leaning closer to renew their kiss. 

As anticipated, Sansa received news of the annulment of her marriage within the moon’s turn. Her annulment had come without a great war, but she knew from Stannis' account that Robert was still dealing with the Great Lion and his fury. Along with the official documents from the Church and house Lannister’s solicitor, also came a scathing letter from the Great Lion. Once she had realized the contents of the letter--a wide array of accusations and threats, Sansa had refolded it and set it aside for Stannis to deal with upon his arrival. 

Which, she sighed, her eyes trained on the gates of Winterfell, wasn’t expected until early tomorrow morning. Stannis and his Brothers were, all three of them, venturing North for what had become the wedding scandal of the century. Rather than marry in town at the Great Sept, they were to share their vows here in Winterfell before the Heart Tree. It may be considered old fashioned, but to her it was the perfect way to marry.

While things between her and her Father had settled, her Mother was still obviously struggling with the events and their far-reaching consequences. Catelyn Stark had never had a heart to tolerate scandal, and oh what a scandal it had been. Her Mother had hardly spoken to her since the day she’d caught her in Stannis’ embrace, and what little words were spoken were curt and shallow. 

However, much to Sansa’s surprise she found that she did not care. Why agonize over her Mother’s disappointment when she would soon be a wife--a true wife to Admiral Stannis Baratheon. 

Of course the _ton_ had been appalled upon learning of both the Baratheon divorce and the Lannister annulment, and it hadn’t taken long for the gossip to start. Her favorite of all the gossip that had reached her, was that she had thrown Jaime over for Stannis, how appalled the matronly women of society must be by that idea. Sansa had chosen--rather wisely, to travel directly from Storm’s End to Winterfell, avoiding town altogether. She had avoided the watchful eyes and scathing glances from the matrons and peerage, and instead could focus on the happy promise of her future. Her past, while not forgotten, was behind her and she wanted only to look forward. 

Their future—her heart leapt as Stannis’ tall form appeared on horseback at the gates. He was here! Walking briskly down the hall--ladies never ran, she reached the front door as the horses reined to a stop near the steps. The cold bit into her skin, winter having fully arrived in the North, but she was not going to go back in for a coat, not when Stannis was finally here.

“Stannis!” she beamed, all but running down the steps. The second he dismounted she was in his arms, clasped tightly to his chest. She nestled her face against the side of his neck, smelling the winter sun and fresh scent of soap that clung to his skin. 

“You are even more beautiful than when I last saw you” he whispered against her temple, his nose pressed to her hair. 

“You’re here” she sighed. “I’ve been waiting ages” she teased, a chuckle rumbling from his chest to vibrate through her. 

“I am sorry to have kept you waiting, My Lady” he replied, lowering her to her booted feet. 

“Ah, the Baratheon Brothers. You’re early” her Father’s voice sounded behind her, amusement in his tone as he greeted Robert and Renly. Sansa’s eyes remained on Stannis’ face, drinking in every detail that she had missed these past sennights. 

“We’ve come for the scandalous wedding we've been promised” Robert’s voice boomed. “Good to see you, Ned.” 

“I am just here to bear witness as Stannis surrenders to a matrimonial fate” Renly teased as he shook her Father’s hand in greeting. “Lady Sansa” he nodded in greeting and she reluctantly looked away from her fiancé. 

“My Lord, thank you for coming,” Sansa replied, unmoving from Stannis’ side. “Welcome to Winterfell.” 

“It is my pleasure, I assure you” Renly smiled. “Even the cold is worth it to see Stannis embroiled in the scandal that rocked the _haute ton_ \--imagine, Lord Jaime Lannister being thrown over for Admiral McPoutface.” 

“I see no pout” Sansa countered, looking up at Stannis to admire his small smile. 

“Not anymore” Robert beamed. “Now then, if it is agreeable with you all, I would like to go inside before we freeze to death.” 

“Of course, please come in. I am sure some tea will chase the chill away” Ned laughed, ushering the eldest and youngest Baratheon Brothers into the house. Sansa, however, remained in Stannis’ embrace at the base of the front steps.

“I think they’re cross with me” Stannis nodded over her shoulder to his Brothers. 

“Oh?” 

“I made them ride through the night so that I could be here this morning” he admitted sheepishly, which made her laugh. “We stopped only in town to refresh before we arrived.”

“I am certainly not complaining that you are early,” Sansa assured him. “I was already in the parlor, watching out the window for your arrival.” 

“You missed me” he said, more of a statement of awe than question but Sansa felt her heart clench with the need to soothe him. 

“Of course I did,” she began. “Stannis, I...I confess in the months I spent at Casterly Rock or locked away in the town house, I would remember our conversation at the Tyrell’s, our waltz together--the way you seemed to inherently understand me, to read my mind. I would think of what my Father told me of your character and it was, oh Stannis it was my only solace; to know that a good man existed and at the very least I could count him as my friend.”

“And are we still friends, Lady Sansa?” a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth and she couldn’t help but laugh. This side of him, the playful softer side of Stannis, was one that she did not know existed, not until that afternoon on the stairs when he promised to give her all that she could ever ask for. From that day onwards, she saw more and more of the light-heart within his breast, one he had kept hidden from everyone. Even in his letters she could see the softening of his edges and see the true, flirtatious man beneath his social armor.

“Yes” she nodded her head. “And today we are also betrothed, tomorrow we will be newlyweds and tomorrow night…” her cheeks flushed and she lowered her forehead to his cravat in embarrassment. 

“Tomorrow night, lovers” Stannis said softly and she lifted her eyes to his, seeing the new heat of desire reflected in his midnight blue gaze. 

“Lovers” she whispered. 

“It will be my honor as your husband, to convince you to spend every night at my side.” 

“And how would you convince me?” she asked breathlessly. 

“I’d make love to you” he shifted closer, pressing their bodies together. “Claim you as my own. Worship you as you deserve and show you to the heights of pleasure, so much so that you’d never wish to leave.” 

“I see” she swallowed thickly, her body suddenly overwarm despite the snow that surrounded them. “That sounds most agreeable.” 

“Most” he playfully mocked.

“Tomorrow night then.” 

“I can hardly wait to marry you, Sansa” he replied, leaning closer to place a lingering kiss on her forehead. His touch was so gentle that she found her eyes had fluttered shut in utter peace. “I thought I had lost my chance forever.” 

“Not forever, just a little while” she assured him, carefully bumping his chin with the tip of her nose. “Now you’re stuck with my pestering forever.” 

“I shall do my best to endure such torment” he said with amusement as the loud clearing of a throat broke into their bubble of privacy. Stannis lifted his head to look over her shoulder, giving whoever was there a quick nod before carefully loosening his hold. “Your Mother, it appears, is not as amused with our tardiness to tea.” 

“Of course she isn’t” Sansa scoffed, wrapping her arm around Stannis as she faced Winterfell. “Heaven forbid I find happiness” she muttered as her betrothed escorted her up the steps. Rolling her eyes at Sansa’s mutterings, Catelyn turned around in a flurry of skirts and rushed back inside with a ‘huff’.

“She’s...unique.” 

“That is a lovely way of putting it,” Sansa laughed, patting the back of Stannis’ gloved hand as they reached the top steps. “She’ll come around as soon as she is a Grandmother, I am certain” she added with a flippant, over-dramatic sigh and had the great delight of stepping into Winterfell for the first time on her betrothed’s arm, as he laughed--loudly. 

“Do you think they will come looking for us?” Sansa whispered, perfectly content to rest against Stannis’ side. They had snuck away from where the others had retired to the drawing room after dinner and made their way to the Godswood. They had no desire to endure Robert’s boisterous tales or Renly’s off-color jokes and instead had run through the halls like children, stifling their laughter with the hands not clasped together. 

“Most likely” Stannis replied in kind, his words almost lost in the crown of her where his lips had taken to resting. The large stone bench before the tree, one usually reserved for prayer, now held the two of them; Stannis was seated as normal but with Sansa’s legs draped across his lap as she snuggled beneath his right arm. A chill hung in the air, but the snow had stopped for the moment. The world around them was blanketed with crisp white and vibrant reds, the silence of the Godswood making for complete peace. 

“What need is there for _propriety_ when we are to wed in less than twelve hours?” she asked, idly tracing patterns on the forearm of his navy wool coat. Truthfully, he did not know. Lady Stark was doing her best to uphold strict rules, most of them making no sense considering how clear Stannis had been in his intention to marry Sansa. Bugger be if he wanted to kiss her on the front steps of Winterfell for hours, in less than a day she would be his wife!

“I cannot say,” Stannis admitted. “Though, if I had had my way, we’d have been married the day you were free to do so.” 

“I find myself wishing that I had simply grabbed you and kissed you at the Tyrell’s card party” Sansa admitted, drawing his gaze from the great Weirwood tree and to herself. “It would have made things so much easier, but I...having experienced what I have, I am so much more grateful to have you.”

“Our experiences shape us, for the better or the worse” he agreed. “And having lost you once--almost twice already, I know that I never want to lose you again.” 

“Could you ever forgive me?” Sansa looked up at him, her eyes wide and serious. 

“Forgive you?”

“That day on the bridge,” she said softly. “I was desperate and I said awful things…” 

“There is nothing to forgive, Sansa” he reassured her. “But I would ask for a promise from you.” 

“Anything.”

“Promise me that you will never do anything so...” he broke off, clenching his jaw to control the flood of emotion that overtook him anytime he thought of how horribly sad she had been, how broken and devastated. “If you’re upset, you come straight to me, no matter what. I will always be there to listen, to help you. Just...never again, promise me.” 

“I promise,” Sansa said without pause, nodding emphatically. “I will run to you, rather than away.” 

“That is all I ask” Stannis wrapped his arms around her. “Our marriage will be forever, for all our lives, and I want it to be a happy one.” 

“As do I” Sansa relaxed against his chest, fitting perfectly beneath his chin. Stannis let his eyes drift shut for just a bit, just so that he could commit everything about this moment to memory. The stillness in the air, the rich scent of rosewater and lemon that clung to Sansa’s silky hair, the warm weight of her across his legs and in his arms. It was because of the silence, however, that he heard the approach of footsteps before they were joined by another. Opening his eyes, Stannis was surprised to see Robert at the entrance to the Godswood, a crooked smile on his face. 

“I volunteered to bid you come back inside” Robert explained, his voice causing Sansa to lift her head to face the intruder. “Lady Catelyn is frantically searching for her wayward Daughter, Ned suggested I look here.” 

“We just wanted a moment’s peace” Stannis reasoned. 

“Understandable” Robert nodded. “And I could see that you had it. I apologize for interrupting, however propriety--” his words were cut off when Sansa let a very unladylike groan slip free. 

“Propriety” she scoffed. 

“It is not my favorite either” Robert said with a smirk. “Come, Miss. Stark, I will escort you inside.”

“If I must” Sansa huffed and Stannis helped her to stand. 

“Better to go now rather than linger until your Lady Mother arrives” Stannis added as he took to his own booted feet. As Sansa made to step away, he gently took her hand, raising it to his lips to place a kiss across her knuckles. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until tomorrow” her smile was vibrant, filled with hope. In this moment, she looked more alive than she had in nearly two years. He watched her go, eyes unable to look away as she took his Brother’s arm and, with a nod that spoke of a promise to keep her safe, Robert escorted her back to the house. Stannis stood in the Godswood for several more minutes, breathing deeply the serenity this Holy place offered, sending silent prayers to any God who would listen, Old or New. 

“Just let me make her happy” he muttered so quietly that none but the Gods would hear. “That is all I ask.” 

“I only wanted what was best for you, you know” her Mother’s words took Sansa by surprise and she stopped her work adjusting the pins in her hair to look at her Mother in the mirror’s reflection. 

“I know” Sansa replied softly. 

“A Mother always wants what is best for her Daughter--her only child” Catelyn continued. “I had hoped that the best was Jaime Lannister, but I was gravely mistaken. I can see now that there is no good in him” she grimaced, her deeply religious tendencies repulsed by the Lannister twins. 

“No” Sansa agreed. “There was nothing good in him, but I did try….” she looked to her silver comb on the vanity, taking a deep breath. “I promise I did try but it was just...awful.” 

“I am so sorry” Catelyn stepped closer, hesitating behind her for a moment until Sansa raised one of the pearl hair pins, silently offering it to her Mother. She took it, making a show of arranging one of Sansa’s curls before pinning it in place. 

“You wanted the best,” Sansa said softly. “Stannis is the best. At least for me he is.” 

“I hardly know him,” her Mother replied. “And I didn’t know of your attachment to him.”

“Stannis is a good man, Mother” Sansa repeated, watching her Mother in the mirror as she added more pearl pins. 

“He certainly has taken his liberties with you” Catelyn did not look up from her ministrations. 

“I have permitted them all and rather enjoyed them” Sansa felt her cheeks warm at the admission. “I wanted it to be him...before, I mean. I had hoped that he would call upon me.” 

“What is the world but timing and chance” Catelyn paused, smoothing her hands over Sansa’s shoulders. “For all your pain, the Gods have rewarded you, your strength and honor. Some women would have taken another to their bed to spite their husband, but you my sweet girl, you had more honor than that” she continued. Sansa’s heart clenched, knowing that her Father had made her promise to never tell her Mother what she had tried on the Stonehelm Bridge. They had gone with Stannis’ story that she had gotten lost and caught chill, the truth of the situation would destroy Catelyn. Still, she hated the lie. 

It was her own fault, she knew that. She was isolated from the world--alone, terrified beyond anything she’d felt before and she just wanted to escape. It was a weakness, some would say, to give up and try the only means of escape. But when she was weak, Stannis had been strong enough for them both, strong enough to take control of her and bind her fate irrevocably with his.

“I know you will be a good wife to him,” Catelyn resumed her work. “I daresay better than any man deserves, and I hope that he treats you like the Princess that you are.” 

“Thank you, Mother” Sansa lifted a hand to cover her Mother’s as it sat on her shoulder. There was a brief moment of unspoken sentiment, one she rarely experienced with her Mother, before Catelyn took a large breath and put a smile on her face. 

“Now then, we’d best not keep him waiting in the snow,” Catelyn said. “You know those Stormlanders and their thin skin” she teased, helping Sansa to her feet. 

“I do not think I’ve ever seen you this nervous” Robert observed from beside him, chuckling to himself. 

“He’s not nervous” Renly’s tone held more than a little amusement. “He’s anxious.” 

“Anxious, nervous, what’s the difference?” Robert scoffed. 

“He’s anxious to claim his bride,” Renly offered. 

“And likely nervous about the wedding night” Robert added. 

“For both your records, yes I am anxious” Stannis paused in his pacing to face his siblings. “I should have liked to have married her two years ago. I have been waiting some time, so bugger you both, if you please.” 

“Oh-ho-ho!” Robert’s laugh echoed on the fresh snow, the layer of powder that had fallen over night. 

“I knew this would be a fun wedding, I feel as if Stannis has finally become a man” Renly muttered to himself, though his smile showed he truly was enjoying himself. And, gripe and huff all they want, Stannis was still grateful that his Brothers were here to stand up with him today. While he was certain they believed he would never marry, this day was all the more meaningful with them at his side. 

Shuffling to the North had him whirling to face the entrance to the Godswood, his eyes locked on the horizon, waiting for his bride to appear. Anxious. Nervous. Elated. Emotions nearly consumed him but every single one of them fell away as he laid eyes on his bride--his Sansa. His mind went blank, heart racing as he watched her approach with rapt fixation. She was the most beautiful being he had ever witnessed.

Rather than the customary white or ivory, she wore a gown of rich Stark grey, the bodice embroidered with delicate designs in silver and white, perfectly matching the pearls that decorated her hair. He was grateful that she had foregone a bonnet, for he was thus granted with the sight of her fiery hair as it gleamed in the early afternoon light. Her gown was long-sleeved, fitting for an outdoor wedding in wintertime, and she carried only a single flower--a gardenia, the flower of secret love. 

She was as he had always imagined her to be; his Queen of Winter.

Stannis never took his eyes from her, not as her Father placed her hands in his, not as Eddard walked them through their vows, and not as they spoke the words that bound them forever. He did not look away until the moment arrived and he removed her maidens’ cloak, also in Stark grey, and replaced it with a cloak of black and gold on her shoulders. Trembling hands momentarily struggled with the clasp, but when he felt the latch click into place, his inner being also clicked, tension unwinding its white-knuckle grip.

It was done. 

“Husband” Sansa stepped closer, placing a hand on his waistcoat over his heart. 

“Wife” he whispered, doing his best to hold back the emotion that clogged his throat. 

“Kiss her already!” Robert’s voice boomed and Sansa’s tinkling laughter worked its way into his bloodstream. Without sparing a glare for his elder Brother, Stannis guided Sansa into his arms and wasted no time in claiming her lips with his own. 

Around them their families cheered and applauded, but Stannis was only focused on the woman in his arms; his wife. 

Ned watched as Stannis leaned in to whisper in Sansa’s ear, something he had already done a dozen times since they sat down to enjoy the wedding feast. As before, Sansa’s lips curved into a smile and this time she blushed before concealing her laughter behind her napkin. 

It was vastly different from her first wedding--the one they had arranged with Jaime Lannister. Even the most foolish of men could easily discern that much, he inwardly sighed. He had tried to arrange what was best for her; she was his only child and he always doted on her, so when a well-established and respected Duke came calling, he had seized the opportunity. 

It would forever remain his biggest regret. 

Though he had not much occasion to see Sansa during her time married to Lord Lannister, each time he did see her she was more and more of a shell--a hollow shadow of what she had once been. Vibrant, witty, outgoing--everything faded away and he did not know how to fix it. He felt the weight of guilt each and every day, even as Catelyn prayed her hardest for a Grandchild. 

He made Sansa a promise that life-changing day at Storm’s End, a promise that he would seek her happiness until his last breath, that he would somehow make this up to her. He had nearly lost her and he never wanted to face such a prospect again. Sansa, ever kind and gentle, had hugged him tightly, whispering that there was only one thing she wanted in this world; to call Stannis Baratheon her husband. 

The shock, of course, was acute. He’d known Stannis for years and didn’t believe him to have a romantic bone in his body. Thinking upon the day's events he realized that Stannis had, in both a figurative and literal sense, saved Sansa’s life. He had carried her to the house with singular purpose, he had faced down the Golden Lion and immediately went to Sansa once things were decided. He had even lost his temper in defense of her. If that wasn’t a sign that Sansa had stolen Stannis’ heart, then he was not a true Stark. 

The fallout of her annulment had been monumental but rather than face the city, they had travelled directly to Winterfell where, he’d hoped, they would mend their bridges as a family. For Catelyn he knew that would be difficult, but they were making strides--if small ones. Sparing a glance to his own wife, who looked surprisingly at ease, Ned returned to watching Sansa and Stannis across the table. Now the two sat closely, heads bent together as they quietly discussed the lemon cake in Stannis’ hand. 

_“I am haunted by the realization that if it was not for the Lannisters, perhaps I could have been happily married to a better man--the man that I wanted, and if the Gods willed it, he would have given me children by now.”_ Sansa’s words at Storm’s End echoed in Ned’s mind and he idly wondered how long until Stannis had remedied the delay in their nuptials and given Sansa the children she longed for.

“Look at them, Ned” Robert clapped his shoulder, laughing in his usual boisterous way. 

“I am” Ned chuckled. 

“Gods, to be that happy” Robert sighed. “I wonder if there is a ‘Sansa’ out there for me, eh? What do you think?” 

“Stop your whoring and perhaps you’ll find her” Ned heard Renly mutter but Robert paid him no mind. 

“Imagine, Stannis a husband” Robert shook his head. “I thought I would have to offer a sizable dowry for a woman to take him to the altar.” 

“And here he is, the first of us to marry for love” Renly quipped, refilling his and Robert’s wine glasses. 

“Lucky bastard” Robert laughed. Ned nearly joined him, but noticed the very serious look on his wife’s face and instead leaned closer to her. 

“Are you well?” he asked and she nodded. 

“I am” her smile was small but genuine. “I am just very surprised, that is all.” 

“You’re not the only one” Ned assured her. 

“Does he love her, you think?” she nodded to the newlyweds. 

“I do” he nodded. “What’s more important is that she loves him and he would never hurt her.” 

“Do you think she will forgive us?” 

“In her own way, she already has” he reasoned, taking his wife’s hand to gently squeeze it. “All will be well, Cat, she is in good hands now” as if on queue, Sansa’s soft laughter filled the air once more and he looked back to see her wiping lemon frosting from Stannis’ chin as he gave an exaggerated, indulgent grimace. 

“It’s disgusting is what it is” Robert scoffed, though his expression held to real annoyance. Ned couldn’t help but wonder, at the core of him, if Robert wasn’t jealous of his Brother’s happiness. Surely life with Cersei Lannister hadn’t been an affectionate one, and with the way things ended--were ending, well, no man wanted to think about sharing his Wife with her Brother. 

It was in the past now, all of the Lannisters were better off forgotten and Ned was more than happy to push them from his mind. 

Sansa looked up then, meeting his eyes across the table and he couldn’t help but smile at the happiness he saw in her eyes. It was almost an exact copy of how happy Cat had looked the day she held Sansa in her arms for the first time. Perhaps, someday soon, Sansa would know that happiness as well. Silently he raised his glass with his free hand, the others following suit and sharing a silent toast to the pair who had weathered the storm already and at last found peace in each other. 

Stannis sat on the edge of the bed, watching his wife as she unpinned her hair. Her hands worked deftly, setting the pearl pins on her vanity beside her brush. They had left their families below stairs, sneaking away to Sansa’s chambers where they could finally--blessedly, be alone. 

He had discarded his coat and boots near the dresser, and idly undid his cravat and cuffs without taking his eyes from the vision that was his bride. After all this time, she was _his_ and he could scarcely believe that he had gotten the only thing he’d ever wanted. Her. 

He stood as her hair fell free, falling around her back and shoulders in a fiery curtain. Standing behind her, he leaned down to press a kiss to the crown of her head, resting his hands on her shoulders. 

“Husband” she smiled at his reflection in the mirror, glowing with happiness in the candlelight. 

“Wife” he replied, moving a hand to trace the line of her jaw. “You are so beautiful, my Queen of Winter.” 

“I remember the first time you called me that” she leaned into his touch. “On the veranda during the party. I confess that title may have influenced my wedding dress” she absently traced the beading on her bodice. 

“You are perfection,” he assured her. 

“Would you help me?” she raised her hands to move the weight of her hair aside, baring the long line of buttons that ran from the nape of her neck to her waist. He ignored the tremor of his hands as he worked the buttons free, the sides of her gown parting to reveal the silk chemise and demi stays beneath. As the material slid down her pale shoulders, he couldn’t resist reaching out to trace the curve of her spine. 

“Never have I seen such exquisite beauty” he whispered. As if commanded by his awe, Sansa gracefully stood, her dress slipping free of her arms and body as she rounded the stool and stepped free of the pool of material to stand before him. She was purely divine, there was no other way to describe it. Her slender frame was highlighted to perfection in the sheer chemise and demi stays. In the soft light of the room he could just make out the detail of her breasts and the deep auburn hair at the apex of her thighs. 

“Do I…” she paused looking away as her arms wrapped around her waist. “Do I please you, Husband?”

“Sansa” he closed the distance between them, taking her hands in his own. “That is a question that you need never ask,” he raised their hands to kiss her knuckles. “You are far and beyond anything in this world. You are singularly lovely, my stunning bride.” 

“I know that my health has slipped in recent moons, but I have been doing my best to recover--I had hoped to please you” she gave a small smile. “I have wanted nothing more in this world than to call you my husband and to show you how very much I love you.” 

“Just as I love you” he guided her into his embrace, burrowing his face into the abundant mass of her hair. Her arms wrapped around his back, holding tightly as she took several deep breaths. 

“It nearly destroyed me” she whispered against his shoulder. “Losing you.” 

“You never lost me” he promised. “I was always right here, right at your side, loving you.” 

“Stannis,” she whispered, pulling back just enough to look up at him. 

“Yes, my dearest wife?” 

“I love you” a smile curled across her lips as her hands worked the buttons of his waistcoat free. “But I believe that I would like you much more without this” she slid her hands under the fabric, pushing it to the floor. “Yes, that is much better.” 

“And I think” he worked the ties on her stays, loosening them enough to send them to her feet. He moved quickly then, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to the bed. “Ah yes, much better” he smiled at the sight of her laid out on the counterpane, her hair creating a fiery halo around her. “If ever a man has loved a woman in this world, it is nothing compared to what I feel for you” he said softly, stretching out beside her on the bed. The sight of Sansa clad only in her chemise nearly unmanned him, her ethereal beauty was beyond anything he had seen before. He’d known from the first night they met that Sansa was meant to be in his life--he had resigned himself to having lost her forever, so to be here with her now was purely a gift from the Gods themselves. 

“I am scared” Sansa whispered as she shifted closer to him. “Scared that I will disappoint you in some way--” 

“Sansa, no” he wrapped his arms around her. “You could never disappoint me” he ran a hand down her back and to her thigh, bunching the fabric of her chemise in his fingers until he reached bare skin. “This” he traced her leg to her knee, lifting it high against his body. “This is our very own type of worship, of tribute to the very Gods that have gifted us to each other.” 

“Oh” she gasped, arching against him as his hand wandered her bare flesh. Pulling her flush against his frame, she gave a ragged sigh and tightened her arms around him. 

“Gods” he ground against her, his cock aching to be freed from the confines of his breeches. “You have bewitched me…” 

“Stannis,” she whimpered, her hands pulling at the fabric of his lawn shirt. He obeyed her unspoken command, slipping from the material to allow her hands to trail across the bare flesh and dark hair on his chest and abdomen. 

“Sansa…” he nearly ground his teeth in an attempt to control himself. He ached to sink into her, to push through the last barrier that kept her from being his forever. Their marriage would be no cold farce, would be no jail of misery or gilded cage; he had every intention of making love to her at every and any opportunity, worshipping her any chance that he had.

“My husband” she whispered, taking in the sight of his bare torso. He sent a quick ‘thank you’ to the Gods of the ocean and the years of service that had kept him in much better shape than most. Her eyes, usually a bright sky blue, had gone dark with desire, pupils blown wide as she looked him over.

“Do I please you, Wife?” he echoed her earlier words, watching the smile form on her lips as her eyes darted to his. 

“Very much, Husband” she replied softly, her fingers tracing the line of muscle from his chest to his belly button. 

“Good” his lips curled in amusement, closing the gap between them and taking her lips in a deep, passionate--claiming kiss.

Sansa stirred awake, smiling as she languidly stretched out stiff muscles. The sheets felt like heaven against her bare skin and the rich scent that clung to them reminded them of her Husband--of her Stannis. 

“Wife” Stannis’ deep voice greeted her as he pulled her back against his broad form. She knew him well enough now to recognize that he too had just woken, his voice deep and husky.

“Husband” she sighed, snuggling her back to his chest. His arms banded around her, cocooning her in his embrace, which just so happened to be her favorite place to be. A reassurance in themselves, their names of endearment had become, by default, ‘husband’ and ‘wife’. Each time she spoke the word and Stannis answered in kind, her heart melted with happiness.

They had been married for just over a fortnight, having only recently arrived at Dragonstone by way of White Harbor, and Sansa was already thoroughly in love with her new home. It was, to her great pleasure, the exact opposite of Casterly Rock. The sprawling gothic mansion with its dark stone walls and sinister sculptures was wonderfully romantic, at least to her. She especially loved the Chamber of the Painted Table, a historic room that always gave her the sense of being transported to another time altogether. 

However, without a question her favorite part of the mansion was the master’s chambers. Though the large bed nearly dominated the room, the entire Eastern wall was glass and gilded doors that they could open to enjoy the balcony. From there they could see the Narrow Sea below and hear its tide crashing against the dark sand of the beaches. 

This meant that she could lay abed with her Husband and listen to the ocean. That was her favorite thing to do--well, almost her favorite, she sighed as Stannis’ hand traced along her side, cupping her thigh with a large, warm hand. 

“I have decided,” Stannis whispered against the shell of her ear, a shiver racing down her spine at his deep baritone. “You are the most beautiful when you’re naked in the sunrise.” 

“That is fortunate,” she smiled. “As I have not seen a clothed sunrise since we wed.” 

“Calculated, I assure you” Stannis countered, kissing her neck just below her ear. She melted into his embrace, more than willing to let her Husband continue his ministrations. 

Her marriage to Stannis was more than she could have dreamed of, even when she was a girl with a head full of fairy tales. The intelligent, strong man that she adored was an achingly gentle lover on the occasion of their wedding night. He had escorted her to their chambers himself, unwilling to be parted with her so that she could ‘prepare’, which made her wonder if he inherently knew how to assuage her unspoken fear that she would spend another wedding night alone. 

While the act itself had been initially painful--for her husband was not a small man by any means, it had been thoroughly lovely. Stannis had taken his time, doing his best to ensure that she, too, enjoyed their coupling. Every touch electric and every kiss a promise of affection and care. Their coupling was far more than mere pleasures of the flesh, but a shared worship of each other and their union. 

That night and each night since their arrival at Dragonstone, they found their pleasure together and often turned to the other in the night. Sansa could imagine no greater indulgence than making love to her husband, moans and whimpers reaching crescendo as the waves crashed below their balcony. 

As it was, she was fairly certain that she had spent more of her marriage thus far unclothed rather than clothed-- _”making up for lost time”_ Stannis would promise as he took her body to new heights. 

“Husband” Sansa whimpered as he gently suckled upon the flesh over her collarbone. 

“Yes, Wife?” she could hear the mischief in his voice. This Stannis, the teasing, playful man, the one only she knew, was her favorite Stannis. 

“Do not tease me so” she pleaded, arching her back to rub her bottom more firmly against him. Of course, given they had both foregone nightclothes, she had the pleasure of feeling Stannis’ cock as it’s hardened length settled between the curves of her ass. At this, Stannis’ growl grumbled through her, her lips curving into a smile. 

“Now who is the tease, Wife?” 

“Please, have mercy,” she begged as he rocked against her, his fingers stopping just short of where she ached for his touch, instead they settled in the fiery curls at the apex of her thighs. 

“My Goddess” he nibbled at her ear. “My beautiful Winter Queen.”

“Stannis…”

“My darling, dearest love,” he all but purred as, at last, he stroked her most delicate flesh. A sob of pleasure tore from her throat as he worked her, swirling and circling her as his mouth mapped her neck and shoulder. It did not take long, though it never did at Stannis’ touch, soon her body was trembling almost violently, clinging to any piece of him she could reach. 

“Stannis—”

“That’s it, come apart for me now. Let it take you” he encouraged and a moment later her world turned entirely to light, body beyond her control as her peak took her. Sansa was desperately trying to catch her breath when Stannis lifted her top leg and aligned himself, sinking home in a smooth stroke. 

“Oh Gods” she sobbed anew, the slick between her legs making it easy for him to slip within her, unstopping until he had reached the barrier of her womb. Stannis’ warm breath brushed across her neck as a curse passed his lips, a muffled litany of pleasure. He held her close, her body surrounding his, neither of them daring to break their connection by moving. 

“I could stay here forever” Stannis groaned, holding her tight. 

“Yes...” she arched against him. 

“I will never tire of this,” he continued. “Having you.”

“If I am yours, then you are mine” she teased, remembering their vows. 

“From the moment we first met” he replied, and Sansa turned over her shoulder to steal a brief kiss. “You are perfection” he praised, anchoring her to him with a strong hand. 

It was an unhurried, lazy pace that took their collective breaths away. Sansa savored being in her Husband’s embrace, each push and pull of their bodies sending fire through her veins. She had waited so long for a man to love her as Stannis did---no, for Stannis and only Stannis to love her, she never wished to be parted from him. 

**A few moons later…**

“Stannis!” Sansa hurried from the foyer down the hall and into his study to find her husband already on his feet. 

“What? What’s wrong?” he rounded the desk and she rushed into his arms. He hugged her in return, though she was certain he was confused. “It cannot be that you missed me, we’ve only parted an hour ago” he chuckled as she leaned back to look up at him. 

“Of course I missed you, I always miss you” she assured him. “But that is not what has me so excited.” 

“Oh?” he chuckled at her obvious excitement.

“I knew you would be busy and so I snuck away” she smirked. “And I have the most wonderful news!”

“News?” his brow furrowed in confusion. 

“Yes!” she couldn't help but bounce on the balls of her feet. “Stannis, we’re going to have a baby!” 

“A baby” Stannis repeated, stumbling back to sit on the edge of his desk. Sansa laughed softly at the shock clearly visible on her Husband’s face. “It’s only been four moons…” 

“I haven’t had my courses since just after our wedding,” she explained. “I wasn’t sure at first--I didn’t dare hope that such a wonderful miracle could happen so quickly! But the Maester confirmed it just a quarter of an hour ago, which means that we’ll have a child by the Yule.” 

“Gods, Sansa” he exhaled, pulling her into his arms. His face burrowed into the curve of her neck, as it always did, fitting them together perfectly. 

“I cannot wait” she whispered, burrowing her face against the side of his neck. “A baby, Stannis, our baby!”

“Our baby” he repeated, tunneling a hand into her hair before kissing her forehead. “I am sure that you’ve figured it out by now, but I do love you, Sansa, so very much” he said the words with such ferocity of passion that she felt tears spring to her eyes. 

“I love you too” she replied, her lips brushing his neck as she spoke. Stannis was not a man of outward affection or 'effection', but she knew that he loved her more than anything in this world. He had made that abundantly clear.

“Come” Stannis shifted abruptly, lifting her into his arms in bridal-style. 

“Where are we going?” she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her from the room. 

“To celebrate” he explained as he carried her up the stairs towards their bedroom. “News this important deserves a proper celebration.” A few maids bustled out of their way as he walked, surely adding to the already rampant gossip of how much the Lord and Lady of Dragonstone adored each other. 

“I see” she held to his shoulders until they reached their bed, where they collapsed across the mattress, carefully of course. 

“I love you” he pulled her into his embrace, trailing kisses across her chin and neck. 

“I love you” she held him tightly, allowing herself to become lost in her Husband’s touch.

While they had done everything in their power to avoid it, the heavy weight of familial guilt and obligation had them in town for the start of the season. _’See and be seen’_ Robert had encouraged but Stannis had only grit his teeth in reply. Neither him nor Sansa had the inclination to put themselves on display, both of them fully aware of the scandal that would always surround their names. 

In the end, it was Robert's decision to host a fortieth birthday party--along with a ‘recently divorced celebration’ for himself that had them packing their trunks and heading South. What better reason to venture to town than a direct family connection and Robert finally being free of Cersei Lannister? 

That was how they found themselves standing in the Baratheon town house that they’d renewed their acquaintance in all those moons ago. Standing closely together, they were nearly huddled in the corner as they absently observed the dancers and revelers. They had noted the stares of others as they passed, even noticed a bit of gossip here and there but as was the norm, they focused only on each other. 

“Vultures, the lot of them” Stannis scoffed, taking a long drink from his punch. 

“If only they knew” Sansa hid her smile behind her fan, turning closer to his much larger frame. 

“Oh?” 

“You’re completely gone for me, haven’t you noticed?” Sansa smirked up at him, amusement as plain as day in her eyes. 

“Am I?” Stannis feigned ignorance. “Suppose it could be that I’m just looking for a good whist partner.”

“Well, I am the best, as you know,” Sansa replied simply, her Tully blue eyes sweeping over the room. 

“Second to me” Stannis offered. 

“Second to none” his Wife countered without pause. 

“Confident little thing, you are” he chuckled.

“Not ‘little’ for much longer I’m afraid” she reasoned, making a great show of cooling herself with her fan. 

“Not much longer at all, I daresay” he smugly agreed, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms, just as he always did when this subject came up. He had never considered himself a prideful or possessive man but anytime the subject of his Wife’s condition arose, he was more than ready to carry her away. This was all so new to him, of course, the need to protect, defend and nurture--something else he could ‘blame’ on his Lady Wife. 

“Look at you” Sansa tucked her fan away and faced him. “You’re preening. Again.”

“I have no shame in it,” he assured her. “Not a single ounce.”

“We haven’t even told my parents yet” she offered but he shook his head. 

“No point, they’ll figure it out soon enough. You’re already showing. ”

“I highly doubt that, good sir!” she protested, feigning outrage. 

“You are” he quieted his voice, inching closer to speak directly into her ear. “When you’re naked as your name day and riding your husband into oblivion, I can see the swell as plain as day. Not to mention the lovely changes in your boso--”

“What a---wicked man I’ve married” she reopened her fan and quickly waved it as he returned to his full height. 

“You’d have me no other way” he admired his lovely bride as her cheeks flushed with barely concealed desire. 

“I’d have you in many ways” she said flippantly as Lady Margaery Tyrell approached. “Lady Margaery, lovely to see you” her voice was as saccharine as it was false, but Stannis observed—ever the dutiful husband, as she made small talk with the Highgarden heiress. 

It was only a few painful moments, but by the time Lady Margaery returned to the crush he was more than ready to escape this party. 

“Remind me again why we're here?” Sansa asked him in a conspiratorial whisper.

“Duty.”

“Hang duty” Sansa sighed. “It's unbearably warm. I’m going to vomit on my slippers soon.”

“That will certainly help us blend in” he laughed, wincing when she smacked him on the arm with her fan. 

“This is completely your fault, you know!” she argued. 

“Mine?” he shook his head. “No, this rests entirely upon your lovely, slender shoulders, my darling.”

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

“How so?”

“Were you less lovely than you are, I would likely desire you less” he seduced. “And were I to desire you less, well…”

“We wouldn’t have been married not yet five moons and already expecting” she offered.

“Precisely.”

“Smug man” she smiled. 

“Again, Mrs. Admiral Baratheon, you’d have me no other way.”

“Once again you’re right” she sighed dramatically. “And I’ll have you any which way I can take you.”

“And you have in spades, madam” he replied.

“Stan!” she laughed wildly, turning away from the dance floor to face him. A split-second later he watched as her smile fell, eyes going wide as she looked beyond his back. 

“Sansa? What is---”

“Your Grace” Sansa curtsied gracefully--dutifully, her features suddenly impassive and voice ice-cold. 

“Lady Sansa” the unamused, unaffected voice of the Great Lion had Stannis turning to face the newcomer. “Admiral.”

“Your Grace” Stannis nodded his head only slightly. Surely this man’s invitation had been a mistake or oversight, there was no reason that he should be here tonight.

“I’m surprised to see you in attendance” Lord Tywin’s tone was utterly bored. “But I suppose it is your Brother’s name day, after all.”

“It is, indeed, Your Grace” Stannis agreed, not missing the way Sansa shifted closer to his side. 

“You’re looking well, Mrs. Baratheon,” Tywin’s eyes roamed Sansa’s form and Stannis stepped in front of her as his hackles rose. 

“To what do we owe the unexpected honor of your company?” Stannis asked, cutting through the false niceties of high society. He remembered well the threats that Tywin had issued to Sansa during her marriage to Jaime, she had told him everything that she had endured and Stannis would never forgive the Lannisters for the sins they had committed against her.

“I thought it would be appropriate to converse with my once-Good-Daughter at the event of her reappearance in society” Tywin reasoned, though his eyes remained cold. 

“My Wife has long been removed from your family and your scope of concern” Stannis stated plainly, his great height allowing him a moment to glower down at the Great Lion. 

“So it would seem” Tywin’s chilling emerald eyes attempted to cut through him but in this Stannis would not be swayed, he would protect Sansa at any cost. “Have you no inquiry of your former husband, Lady Sansa?”

“Are you certain, Your Grace, that you would like to visit such a topic?” Sansa’s voice came from beside him before Stannis could reply. He had the honor of looking at his wife and admiring the defiant cut of her jaw, the fire in her eyes as she challenged a man who had once threatened her livelihood. At one point in time she had been terrified of Tywin, but now she stood tall, powerful and unbending.

“Lady Sansa—“

“I would advise you to tread carefully,” she raised a single brow in challenge, pointedly resting her hand over her stomach. “Lest the entire _ton_ realize that a Baratheon has done in four moons what a Lannister could not in nearly twenty--at least not with his _wife_.”

Tywin seemed to consider her words for several moments before he raised his brows in surprise, “Lady Sansa--”

“Perhaps I simply lacked the leonin golden beauty to tempt him, though we both know I tempted you” she continued, the threat hanging in the air between them. Air that suddenly weighed more than a thousand warships. 

A moment passed. Then two. Then three. Four. 

“Excuse me, Admiral, Lady Baratheon” Tywin sounded frazzled as he excused himself from their company. They were silent for several moments before Stannis set his cup of punch aside and faced her. 

“My Lady Wife.”

“My Lord Husband?”

“What would you say to escaping with me?”

“Escaping?” her eyes lit with intrigue.

He nodded, “With me. Presently. Immediately.” He found he was consumed with the sudden and undeniable urge to make love to his Wife. Party be damned. 

“I find that most agreeable,” she smiled. 

“Most” Stannis offered his arm which she took without hesitation. Together they quit the public area Baratheon town house and party entirely, neither looking back as they hurried up the side staircase. Instead they were looking forward, towards the night that lay ahead. 

Towards their future. 

**Several Years Later**...

“Steffon, do not climb too high,” Sansa warned from her spot on the blanket in the shade of the tree that Steffon was currently trying to conquer. Spring had come after a long, cold winter and she could tell that their eldest son was doing his best to work off an excess of energy. 

They had travelled from Dragonstone to Storm’s End at Robert’s insistence, here to celebrate the completion of the Stonehelm Bridge restoration. Robert had decided shortly after Steffon was born that he was going to rebuild the ancient structure at last. After all, he didn’t want his nephew stumbling across it by mistake. 

Of course, Stannis was in full support of the project, determined to remove the dilapidated piece from Storm’s End and replace it with something far more beautiful. Just as he had removed and replaced a broken marriage from Sansa’s life. Oftentimes, Sansa would express that she couldn’t help but think he had done the same for her that day on the bridge; he had excised the hollow structure that her chest had become, and replaced it with everything wonderful. 

That does not mean that they did not have their sad moments. They never did fully return to proper society after the scandal, and it took years for Tywin Lannsiter’s threats to stop, though in defense of his tenacity, they stopped when he finally succumbed to illness and neither Jaime nor Cersei cared to renew them. 

“When did he get so big?” Stannis chuckled as Steffon let out another cry of joy. He was mindful of the sleeping child in his arms, but still his eyes tracked their Son’s adventures.

“It must’ve happened when we blinked” Sansa smiled as she always did when she watched their daughter sleep in her Father’s arms. While Steffon was his Father’s clone, Cassana had a bit more of the Tully look about her, her hair just slightly darker than Sansa’s own, and Stannis doted on her. 

Steffon had recently turned five and Cassana would be three this year, and from the looks of things, she may end up sharing her birthday with her younger sibling--one yet to arrive. True to form, Stannis would say that 'his Queen of Winter enjoyed giving him children in the heart of Winter itself'. As it did each time she thought of their impending arrival, Sansa’s hand fell to her stomach in a reverent touch. She had started to show just before their journey South and the swell was only visible now if she pulled her dress taut. 

Stannis, however, insisted that he could see it regardless. 

“You’re beautiful” Stannis said and she looked from her stomach to her husband, feeling her cheeks warm. Married over six years and still her husband could make her blush like a maid. 

“You’re preening” she smiled. 

“Again” he smirked. 

“Again” she agreed, reclining onto the blanket with a sigh. They had packed a bit of food and extra blankets for their picnic, which was fortunate as the blankets made a great pillow. She settled onto her side, facing her husband. 

“You asked me once for children, I am only doing my duty” he reasoned. “Besides, we do make lovely children” he nodded to Cassana in the same moment Steffon plopped onto the grass beside them. A quick shuffle later he was without shoes and crawling into the cradle of Sansa’s body, snuggling against her. 

“Tired, my little stag?” she brushed the dark hair from his forehead. 

“No,” Steffon insisted petulantly, but as they watched, his eyes started to flutter shut. This would happen any time he refused a nap, he’d inevitably fall asleep on one of their laps and they would carry him to bed. A nap in the shade and fresh air would do him good. 

“I should feel badly he looks so much like me,” Stannis said softly. “I’ve never seen a boy more ‘Baratheon’.”

“Why badly? You’re quite handsome, I’ve always thought so” Sansa replied. 

“Always? I thought you wanted me for my prowess in whist” Stannis countered. “Ideally he will follow in my Brother’s shoes and keep his hair past forty.” 

“As you know, I admire your _prowess_ in general. And don’t be silly, your hair is perfectly fine. ” 

“What’s left of it, you mean” Stannis quipped. 

“You’ll never hear me complain” she smiled. 

“Indeed, Mrs. Admiral Baratheon is a very satisfied woman, I daresay.” 

“She is,” Sansa agreed. “And very happy.” 

“As is her husband” Stannis said. “More than I ever hoped to be.” 

“I love you, Stannis,” she said. “I love our life together, I love our family.” 

“As I love you,” Stannis replied with a small smile, the one that was her favorite of his smiles. They both knew that each and every day that they had together was a gift, one that they believed was gone from their grasps forever. Because of this, they never took a moment, even the smallest moments, for granted. 

Stannis could almost count down the minutes, but instead he watched as Sansa drifted off to sleep, one arm around Steffon who was already drooling onto the quilt. As with her two previous pregnancies, with this one she was back to falling asleep the moment she was comfortable. While his family was sound asleep, Stannis remained wide awake, watchful and vigilant of the world around them. Of course they were unlikely to be harassed, being in a secluded area of Storm’s End, a stone’s throw from the new bridge, still he wanted to ensure that they were safe regardless. 

His life had changed here, both near the bridge and in Sansa’s presence. He was lucky, he knew that well, to have lost her once to a lesser man--there was no mistaking that Jaime Lannister was a lesser man, only to nearly lose her entirely. They had endured their trials and come through them stronger and more in love than ever. They cherished each night and every day they spent as much time as possible with their children. While Stannis had, at the first, been nervous around Steffon, by the time Cassana arrived he was what Catelyn called ‘an expert Father’, much to his Brothers' amusement. His family was his world, and he meant to be there for every moment as his children grew. 

Footsteps sounding on the path had him turning his head as Robert rounded the corner, humming softly with a bottle of wine in one hand and a pair of glasses in the other. Stannis raised a finger to his lips, signaling the need for quiet and Robert nodded in understanding. More quiet than he would have thought possible, Robert lowered himself to the blanket beside Stannis, putting him between his wife and son, and Brother. Robert settled in and poured them each a glass of arbor gold--Robert’s much more full than Stannis’ of course. 

“You tell her parents yet” Robert whispered, nodding to Sansa. “Ned will be over the moon--as usual.” 

“Not yet” Stannis replied softly. “A letter seems a poor way to break the news. I am sure we will when they arrive here tomorrow.” 

“You’re a lucky bastard, you know that don’t you?” 

“I do” Stannis nodded. “And mind your language around the children.” 

Robert chuckled, shaking his head, “I hardly recognize you, in the best way” he paused for several moments before speaking once more. “They’d be proud of you, our parents.” 

“Rob--” 

“No, they would,” he continued. “You’re the best of us, Renly and I both know that. You’re a good man, an even better Husband and Father” he sipped from his drink. “I would ask, if you have another Son, that we entail Storm’s End to Steffon and Dragonstone to the youngest.” 

“Robert...I,” Stannis swallowed. “You’re serious?” 

“I am” he nodded. “As much as I’m a jealous bastard--”

“Language.” 

“Marriage isn’t for me,” he continued without pause. “Steffon deserves Storm’s End and so I want him to have it.” 

“Thank you,” Stannis didn’t know what else to say, having been thoroughly blown away by his Brother’s generosity. 

“At least we know it’ll be safe in _Baratheon_ hands” Robert clapped him gently on the shoulder before laying back on the blanket. One arm under his head, the other holding the wine glass on his stomach, Robert was soon just as asleep as the rest of his family. In a deft movement that came only with the juggling skills of Fatherhood, Stannis saved Robert’s glass before it spilled over, setting it instead on the grass without jostling Cassana awake. 

Now, thoroughly surrounded by sleeping Baratheons, Stannis smiled to himself as he watched the river flow by. Sometime later Steffon mumbled something and turned over, snuggling closer to Sansa’s chest and burrowing his head under her chin. Her arm automatically tightened around his small body, cradling him close. Sansa was the best Mother anyone could ask for, caring and fierce. Some of his favorite moments were watching her as she nursed their children or the smile on her face when she held them for the first time. Or now, as they slept soundly at the home he’d grown up in.

This was worth every second of pain, Stannis decided. This day, this moment, his family. Absolutely worth it. 

“You’re preening again” Sansa muttered sleepily, a smile on her lips though she didn’t open her eyes. 

“Again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
> @the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/
> 
> Or you can join the Pack [HERE](https://discord.gg/bsRauMj/) on discord!


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